#but I need a flash and a diffuser apparently

[scribeartistjo-tan]

My first ever practice macro shots. ^^

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

When Roles Collide

Word count: 941

Pairing: max Verstappen x reader, ft. kelly and P

Summary: After expressing concern that Kelly relies too much on Max to care for her daughter, Y/n faces Kelly's anger.

______________________________________________________________

Kelly arrived at the apartment with P in tow, the little girl bounding into Max’s arms as soon as the door opened. You watched as Max smiled, scooping her up effortlessly, his affection for her always evident. But today, you felt a growing sense of frustration. This was the third time this week that Kelly had dropped her off with barely any notice, and as much as you loved P, something about this situation wasn’t right.

Once Max and P had gone off to play, you approached Kelly, who was halfway out the door. You could feel the words building inside of you, and you knew you had to say something before it continued.

"Kelly, can I talk to you for a second?" you asked, your voice calm but firm.

She paused, hand on the door, clearly not expecting this. "Sure, what’s up?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your tone even. "Look, I love having P around, and Max is always happy to see her. But I feel like lately, you’ve been relying on him a lot. She’s your daughter, and she needs time with you too. Max can't always be the one stepping in."

Kelly’s expression shifted instantly, her casual demeanor hardening into something defensive. "Excuse me?" she said sharply, her brows knitting together. "I’ve been busy, and P loves spending time with Max. Why do you care all of a sudden?"

You swallowed, taken aback by the sharpness of her response. "It’s not that I care 'all of a sudden.' I just think it’s important that P spends time with you, her mom. Max loves her, but you’re—"

Before you could finish, Kelly cut you off. "You’ve only been in Max’s life for, what, six months? And now you think you get to delegate how I raise my daughter?"

Her words hit like a slap, and you felt your chest tighten. "I’m not trying to delegate anything," you said, keeping your voice steady, though your heart was racing. "I’m just saying that it feels like Max is being put in a position where he’s—"

"Where he’s what? Being a father figure to the daughter he’s helped raise for years?" Kelly’s voice was growing louder, her anger bubbling over. "You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s been like for me and P. Max has always been there for her, and now you just waltz in and decide you know what’s best?"

The frustration you’d been holding back for so long surged forward. "That’s not what I’m saying, Kelly! I get that Max has been there, and I love that about him. But I’m not trying to replace you or act like I know what’s best. I just think P needs her mom more than you realize."

Kelly crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "You think you know better than me, huh? After just half a year with Max, now you’re an expert?"

You shook your head, trying to remain calm even though the tension was thickening by the second. "I’m not trying to tell you how to be a mom, Kelly. I just think that you’re depending on Max a little too much, and it’s not fair to him either."

Kelly scoffed, her eyes flashing with irritation. "What’s not fair is you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. Max and I have been handling this just fine before you came along."

Max, who must have overheard the raised voices, appeared in the doorway, his eyes darting between you and Kelly. "What’s going on?" he asked, his tone cautious but concerned.

Kelly didn’t hesitate. "Your girlfriend here thinks she knows better about how I should be raising P. Apparently, I’m not doing enough because I let her spend time with you."

Max’s eyes widened, and he glanced at you, clearly surprised. "That’s not what she’s saying, Kelly," he said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. "I think she’s just concerned, that’s all."

"Concerned," Kelly repeated bitterly. "How considerate of her. Well, news flash—this is my daughter we’re talking about, and Max, you’ve been like a second father to her for years. You don’t need anyone else telling you what’s best for her."

The anger in her voice was palpable, and you could see the hurt flashing in Max’s eyes as he tried to mediate. You wanted to defend yourself, to explain that you weren’t trying to come between anyone, but the words were stuck in your throat.

"I think it’s best if we just take a step back for now," Kelly said, turning toward the door. "I don’t need anyone questioning how I handle my daughter. I’ll figure it out on my own."

Before you could respond, she was gone, leaving the tension lingering in the room. Max let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you, unsure of what to say.

You felt a pang of guilt but also the undeniable weight of your frustration. "I wasn’t trying to upset her," you said quietly.

Max nodded, stepping closer. "I know. You’re just looking out for P and for us… but this is complicated." He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "Kelly’s always been protective, especially when it comes to P. I think she feels like she’s losing control."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "I just want what’s best for everyone."

Max pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I know. And I appreciate you trying to help. We’ll figure this out. Together."

But as you leaned into him, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

[kicxvu]

NOT ALLOWED ! izumi miyamura x reader

summary : bumping into the boyfriend of a really really jealous girlfriend would make your life hell

warnings :

word count : 2k

a/n : first fanfic of my bby ! luv him, and sorry it’s quite hate on Hori… if you don’t like it leave kindly pls !!

-> pt1 -> pt2

Life had always been a quiet affair for you. Each day blended into the next, a monochrome tapestry of routine and solitude. School was no exception - a place where you existed more as a shadow than a person, drifting through hallways and classrooms with barely a ripple in your wake.

It wasn't that you disliked people. No, it was more that you had grown accustomed to the gentle hum of loneliness, finding comfort in the predictability of your own company, at least you were forced to enjoy your own company. Your classmates' names and faces blurred together, a sea of unfamiliar familiarity that you navigated with practiced indifference.

This particular morning started like any other. You rose with the sun, mechanically prepared for school, and set off on your usual route. The spring air was crisp, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms that lined the street. As you walked, your mind wandered, lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts.

You barely registered the school gates as you passed through them, your feet carrying you on autopilot. The chatter of other students washed over you, a meaningless backdrop to your internal musings. You were contemplating the English assignment due next week, mentally cataloging the books you'd need to reference, when it happened.

One moment you were lost in thought, the next you felt the solid impact of colliding with another person. The shock jolted you back to reality, your eyes widening as you stumbled backward.

"Oh!" A male voice exclaimed, surprise evident in his tone.

As you regained your balance, you finally focused on the person you'd walked into. It was a boy, probably around your age, with dark hair that fell softly around his face. His blue eyes were wide with surprise, one hand half-raised as if he'd been about to steady you. There was something vaguely familiar about him, like a face you'd seen in passing a hundred times but never truly looked at.

Next to him stood a girl with long, light brown hair and an expression that rapidly shifted from surprise to anger. You had a fleeting thought that you might have seen her before too, but your notoriously unreliable memory provided no name or context.

You opened your mouth, an apology forming on your lips, when the girl's voice cut through the air like a knife.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her eyes flashing. "Don't you dare touch my boyfriend!"

The words hit you like a physical force, leaving you reeling. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to process what was happening. Boyfriend? You hadn't meant to touch anyone. It was an accident. Why was she so angry?

Your face, usually a mask of calm indifference, betrayed your bewilderment. You blinked rapidly, mouth slightly agape as you struggled to form a response.

The boy - apparently her boyfriend - turned to the girl, his expression a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "Hori, it was just an accident," he said, his voice low but firm. "There's no need to-"

But the girl - Hori - wasn't listening. She took a step forward, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Are you even listening? I said, stay away from him!"

You flinched at the volume of her voice, acutely aware of the curious stares of other students beginning to gather around you. Your heart raced in your chest, a caged bird beating against your ribs. This was exactly the kind of attention you always strived to avoid.

Summoning your courage, you tried to speak, to explain, to diffuse the situation somehow. But before you could utter a word, you felt hands on your shoulders, pushing you backward with surprising force.

You stumbled, nearly losing your footing. The shock of the physical contact left you breathless, your mind reeling. In all your years of fading into the background, you'd never experienced anything like this.

The boy - Hori's boyfriend - looked positively mortified now. His face had gone pale, and he reached out towards Hori, clearly trying to calm her down. "Hori, stop it! You're overreacting. It was just an accident, okay?"

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Hori stood there, glaring at you with an intensity that made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.

You stood frozen, your body tense, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. You weren't used to dealing with such strong emotions - especially not from others. Your own feelings were usually kept carefully in check, hidden behind a facade of quiet reservation. But now, in the face of this unexpected confrontation, you felt your carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble.

Your eyes darted between Hori, her boyfriend, and the growing crowd of onlookers. The urge to run, to escape this bewildering situation, was almost overwhelming. But something kept you rooted to the spot - perhaps the lingering shock, or some deep-seated instinct telling you that running would only make things worse.

As the tension hung in the air, Miyamura's mind was in turmoil. The sight of you, standing there looking lost and confused, triggered a flood of memories from his own past. He saw himself in you - the quiet, reserved child he once was, the target of bullies, the one who faded into the background to avoid attention.

His eyes traced your hunched posture, the way you clutched your bag like a shield, the barely concealed fear in your eyes. It was like looking into a mirror of his younger self, and the realization hit him like a physical blow.

Hori's angry words faded into the background as Miyamura's thoughts raced. He remembered the loneliness of his childhood, the sting of cruel words, the bruises from physical bullying. He thought of the piercings hidden beneath his uniform, each one a testament to his journey of self-discovery and resilience.

In that moment, Miyamura felt a deep, visceral horror at Hori's behavior. The girl he cared for, usually so kind and understanding, was acting like the very bullies that had made his life miserable. He wanted to reach out to you, to offer some word of comfort or understanding, but found himself frozen, caught between his past and present.

Your quiet, almost emotionless apology snapped Miyamura back to reality. He watched, a lump forming in his throat, as you quickly walked away from Hori's accusing gaze. Your retreating figure seemed to blur with the image of his younger self, walking away from yet another confrontation, another day of feeling invisible and misunderstood.

As you disappeared around the corner, Miyamura felt a surge of empathy and regret. He should have done more, said more. He knew all too well the pain of being singled out, of being the focus of unwanted attention.

"Hori," he said softly, turning to his girlfriend. "That wasn't right. She didn't do anything wrong."

Hori, still bristling with indignation, opened her mouth to argue, but something in Miyamura's expression made her pause. She'd rarely seen him look so serious, so… hurt.

"Let's just go to class," Miyamura said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. As they walked, he couldn't shake the image of you from his mind. He wondered about your story, about the experiences that had shaped you into the quiet, reserved person he'd glimpsed in that brief encounter.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before them as they made their way to class. Miyamura's steps felt heavy, weighed down by memories and regret. He could hear snippets of conversation from other students, whispers about the scene that had just unfolded. It made him feel sick.

As they approached the classroom, Miyamura caught sight of you again. You were just ahead of them, your shoulders hunched, your pace quick as if trying to escape. He wanted to call out to you, to apologize, to offer some word of comfort. But the words stuck in his throat.

Entering the classroom behind you, Miyamura felt a sense of dread. This was your safe space, he realized, the place where you could blend into the background and avoid attention. And now, because of what had happened, all eyes would be on you.

He watched as you made your way to your seat, your movements stiff and uncomfortable under the curious stares of your classmates. Miyamura felt a pang in his chest, remembering countless similar moments from his own past.

As he sat down at his desk, Miyamura couldn't help but think that this day, which had started so ordinarily, had become a turning point. For you, for him, for his relationship with Hori. He glanced back at you, noting the way you seemed to be trying to make yourself as small as possible in your seat.

In that moment, Miyamura made a silent promise to himself. He would find a way to make this right. He would show you that not everyone was like the bullies from his past, that there were people who could see beyond the quiet exterior to the person within.

As the teacher entered and class began, Miyamura's mind was far from the lesson. Instead, he was lost in thoughts of past and present, of hidden scars and silent struggles, and of the unexpected connection he now felt with the quiet girl who sat behind him.

As the lunch bell rang, the classroom erupted into a flurry of activity. Students rose from their seats, chattering excitedly about their plans for the break. You remained seated, watching as Hori practically dragged Miyamura and her friends out of the room, her voice carrying back to you.

"Come on, let's go to the roof! I'm starving!" Hori exclaimed, her earlier anger seemingly forgotten.

"Hori, slow down," Miyamura's softer voice replied, a note of concern evident.

Their voices faded as they disappeared down the hallway, leaving you alone in the now-quiet classroom. The silence enveloped you like a familiar, if unwelcome, friend.

You reached into your bag, pulling out the bento box your mother had carefully prepared that morning. Setting it on your desk, you stared at it, feeling a lump form in your throat.

This was your life, distilled into a single moment. Alone, always alone, even in a room full of people. The realization hit you anew, as fresh and painful as if it were the first time you'd acknowledged it.

You felt a hot tear slide down your cheek and let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. "Pathetic," you whispered to yourself, the word hanging in the air like a judgment.

Your mind began to spiral, thoughts tumbling over each other in a familiar, depressing cascade.

'What's wrong with me?' you wondered, your inner voice tinged with self-loathing. 'Why can't I be like them? Why can't I laugh and chat and make friends so easily?'

You thought about Hori and her group, imagining them on the roof now, sharing food and jokes, creating memories you'd never be part of. The loneliness felt like a physical ache in your chest.

'I'm invisible,' you thought, your fingers tracing patterns on the desk. 'No, worse than invisible. When people do notice me, it's only to yell or push me away.'

The memory of the morning's confrontation flashed through your mind, bringing a fresh wave of shame and hurt.

'I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere. What chance do I have at friendship, at love, at any kind of normal life?'

Your thoughts turned to Miyamura. For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd seen understanding in his eyes. But that was probably just your imagination, wasn't it? Why would someone like him ever notice someone like you?

You wiped your tears away roughly with the back of your hand, angry at yourself for crying, for feeling, for caring.

Looking down at your unopened bento, you felt a wave of nausea. The thought of eating made your stomach churn. You pushed the box away slightly, your appetite completely gone.

The classroom remained silent, the only sound your own shaky breathing as you tried to compose yourself. You stared out the window, watching clouds drift by in a sky that seemed impossibly blue and cheerful, a stark contrast to the gray world you felt trapped in.

As you sat there, alone with your thoughts and untouched lunch, you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever change, if you'd ever find a place where you truly belonged. The answer, as always, seemed depressingly clear.

well, you may not like it but you better learn how ‘cause it’s your turn now

Ⓡ kicxvu all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

[tgmsunmontue]

I never knew I was missing you 4/9

Jake is just trying to find a connection. Shame the guy he connects with the most is lying about his identity online; because he sure as hell isn't A-list Hollywood star Bradley Bradshaw.

ONE TWO THREE

PART FOUR

                “First though, I’ve got something I need to take care of…”

                “Yeah?” Brad asks; and there’s a mad scramble of the phone, he sees a flash of nostrils up close and god, Brad is complete and utter dork. Cute with it though, he thinks, and also technologically inept as he clearly presses the phone against his head without turning the camera off, so all Jake can see is diffused dark orange and red shadows of what is probably his hand. But he does feel like Brad in closer now, his breathing still gasping gratifyingly as he lets out a groan. It makes Jake’s toes curl. “Let me see?”

                “Of course…” Jake says, and he angles the camera down his own body, even if his own view is no longer Brad’s body but some squished up part of either his face or hand depending on whatever camera he still has on. He wants to ask him to hold his phone out, so he can see his face, finally get a good look at him, but then it’s shifting anyway so Brad can look at the screen of his phone and Jake sees him properly. Oh. He definitely has more than a passing resemblance to Bradley Bradshaw, although he has a beard and much longer hair, and it’s a riot of gorgeous looking curls that Jake wants to run his hands through. He is not disappointed in the slightest. God, maybe his name is actually Brad too.

                “Hi…” he says, voice soft and Brad blushes and Jake smiles at him, gut doing a little flip that this is the guy he’s been chatting with for the last couple of weeks and he’s better than Jake ever imagined.

                “Hi…”

                “You want to watch me huh?”

                “Yeah. Please…”

                “Fuck, yeah. Give me a second…” Jake says.

                He wasn’t wearing anything to begin with, the photo he’d sent over an hour ago had been from an hour before that, because it had taken him that long to decide to actually send it, nerves a little frayed about sending something so overtly sexual despite their flirting just getting more and more blatant he’d left some of their conversations needing to jerk off. Right now he reaches for the lube and squeezes some out, mumbling about what he’s doing so Brad can hear him. He has no idea what his camera is showing right now, just has to hope it’s not too embarrassing a sight, suspects it’s likely the ceiling or bedsheets.

                Then he’s picking his phone up again; Brad’s face comes back into view and he’s biting his bottom lip, it’s all pink and wet and Jake can’t stop staring. He moans when Brad’s tongue comes out to lick his lips and then his mouth is just open, lower lip trembling ever so slightly and Jake imagines those same lips around his cock and grasps his cock with a slick hand. He works himself hard and fast, his cock definitely more than interested knowing that Brad is watching him avidly, and Jake never realized he might have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but apparently, he’s not too old to be learning new things about himself.

                There’re no clear spoken words between them, just Brad staring at Jake through the screen of his phone and god he wants to be in the same room as him, have his hands on his skin, have Brad’s hands and lips on his body. This is all a step closer; his orgasm punches out of him, catching him by surprise and his body shudders through it as he swears under his breath. He’s really going to have to change the sheets on his bed now.

                “Still want to lick you clean…” Brad says, and his voice sounds rough and Jake lets out a broken little laugh.

                “I’ll let you sweetheart. Trust me. I’ll let you. Fuck.” He doesn’t want to say that the second orgasm was better than the first, it feels a little unguarded to admit that. Fortunately Brad doesn’t seem to notice or care, his eyes just dark and intense and yeah, he could definitely pass as Bradley Bradshaw if he wanted to.

                “I’ll call you later. Tomorrow at the latest. Set up a date?” Brad asks, tone unsure like Jake is going to say no.

                “Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

…            …            …

                He takes a quick shower, grins at himself in the mirror and feels so damned good, and it’s not just the post-orgasm high. Jake had seen his face and not freaked out. Hadn’t even seemed to care at all. Had just smiled at him and looked gorgeous and hot and so happy that it had made Bradley feel so relieved. He pulls on sweat pants and scrubs at his hair to dry it as he walks out to the smaller shared kitchen that they use when it’s just the three of them.

                “Ugh. There’s a Bradley that just got his rocks off.”

                “Perk of being a lifelong friend.”

                “Peril. You mispronounced peril.”

                Bradley just laughs, in too much of a good mood for Neil’s teasing to have any impact.

                “So you took my advice huh?”

                “Yep. Video called him.”

                “Great. So all the misunderstandings are cleared up then.”

                Bradley blinks, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Jake definitely saw his face, but there wasn’t any sudden look of realization on his face that Bradley is in fact Bradley Bradshaw.

                “Uh… maybe? I… yeah. I think so?”

                “You think so? Did he not say anything along the lines of holy shit, you’re actually really Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “No?”

                Neil rubs at the space between his eyes and then his brow and forehead.

                “Oh my god… right now you look like a fucking basement dweller. You’re lucky Callie has better things to do than shave you in your sleep.”

                “What?”

                “He didn’t recognize you, you complete fucking idiot. I mean… clearly he still thinks you’re hot. I mean, he did see your face right?”

                “Uh… it wasn’t exactly pointed at my face to begin with…”

                The expression on Neil’s face turns pained again, the forehead rubbing has resumed and Bradley is starting to freak out. Neil’s right, Jake hadn’t reacted, maybe he should have shaved. He collapses onto the sofa beside Neil.

                “Give me your phone.”

                “What?”

                “Give me your phone,” Neil repeats.

                Bradley hands it over, leans in close to watch as Neil unlocks it, because of course both he and Callie know his passcode.

                “What are going to do?”

                “Shh…” Neil mutters, rolling his eyes and then he’s going to recent calls and Bradley realizes what he’s going to do and makes a grab for it. Too late, it’s already calling Jake, and he hasn’t even had time to make him a contact in his phone, it’s just a number. He doesn’t even know if Jake will answer; yes he said he’d call him back, but it’s not even been thirty minutes. This is mortifying on so many levels.

                “You missing me already?” Jake asks, and Neil has put him on speaker. It’s Bradley’s turn to rub at his forehead, glaring at Neil while he does so.

                “No. I’m definitely not missing you. Jake right?”

                “Yeah. Who’s this? You’re not Brad…”

                “You’re right, I’m not Bradley. My name is Neil Vikander. I live with Bradley. Can I change this to a video call?”

                “Uh, I guess? Why?”

                “We need to clear something up and my friend is an idiot of awardwinning calibre.”

                “Fuck you too Neil…” Bradley mutters under his breath.

                “Hi Jake, I’d like to introduce you to Bradley Bradshaw. Yes. That one. He is an idiot and currently hasn’t shaved in over two weeks, but I’ll go and get his license if you need actual proof.”

                Neil has passed him back his phone and he cups it in his hands, stares down at Jake’s face which is looking stunned. Bradley’s stomach is churning, suddenly terrified that Jake is going to hang up, or run, or… fuck. Never talk to him again.

                “Holy shit, you’re really Bradley Bradshaw…”

                “Yeah. I mean… I did keep trying to tell you…”

                “You have a beard…”

                Bradley’s not quite sure why that’s a sticking point.

                “He hates shaving…” Neil says, leaning over so Jake can see his face in screen and Bradley wants to shove him away as much as he wants Neil to give him a hug and tell him it’s all going to be alright. “You really need to shave. Pretty sure you don’t want your first kiss to be a mimicry of Planet of the Apes…”

                “Neil…” Bradley groans, but Jake is snorting in what Bradley really hopes is amusement, and he hasn’t ended the call. He lets hope flare to life. “I can take it from here thanks.”

                “I expect a mention in the best man speech! Actually, I expect to be best man!”

                “Oh my god, please ignore him…”

                “Holy shit. It’s really you… since when do you need help getting a date? Using fucking dating apps?”

                “Callie made the profile…”

                “And yet you used it… This doesn't feel real.”

                “Yeah well, she had some valid points. Some people only like me for the fame, or what I can do for them…”

                “Well, I gotta say, you do things for me… I’m just also very interested in reciprocating.”

                Bradley knows he’s blushing, curses the fact that his complexion shows it so clearly.

                “You getting shy on me now?”

                “No. Yeah. Maybe? I don’t know…”

                “Eloquent. You’re pretty fucking adorable you know that? Biggest nerd I think I know, and trust me, I know a few…”

                “So. Can I take you out?”

                “Hell yeah you can. You can show me your pinball machine collection.”

                “I’d like that. Plus I’ll shave.”

                “Uh. Can you leave the moustache?”

                Bradley grins slowly.

                “Yeah, I can do that.”

FIVE

[fools-gambit-fic]

Chapter Ten: Out on a Limb

(Read on AO3)

"There's...  Things Leon doesn't do."

Chapter Ten: Out on a Limb

     Though everyone had mostly moved on from the bloody incident of several weeks past, Leon didn't feel himself fully exhale until he arrived at the astle to find Vishnal standing in the field, blades crossed at his feet as he tied up his hair.

     "...Ah, hello Leon!  You've caught me at a busy time, but you're free to watch if you'd like.  I had my last-follow-up yesterday, and Jones finally cleared me for proper exercise, so it's time to get back in practice!"

     The elastic did a poor job of containing his awkward, peculiar haircut—Leon suspected it had been unintentional, and that there was a funny story there—so a few locks still hung free in his face, wispy as silk in the morning light.

     "I'd like...  Though, I'd like it even more if you were wearing those little shorts."

     Leon cackled.  Vishnal primly brushed the stray hair behind his ear.

     "Oh, well...  I ended up having to throw those out.  And besides, Forte put a stop to that.  Apparently, you don't dress for swordplay the way you do for calisthenics.  No more slip-ons, either."

     Vishnal smartly tapped the heel of one boot with the toe of the other, smiling apologetically.  Leon shrugged as he settled on the back steps.

     "Hey, as long as you're safe."

     Leon watched as Vishnal carefully removed his jacket and folded it neatly, ceremoniously placing it in Leon's lap.

     "I'm sure I will be...  If you can manage to sit there and behave, that is."

     The jacket was of a good make, and surprisingly heavy.  Leon smirked fondly as he ran his thumb along the delicate stitching.

     "Oh, I learned my lesson that day for sure.  Pretty sure you might've killed me if you didn't fall on your ass first."

     Vishnal sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

     "Yes, I really need to work on the whole 'falling on my ass' thing, don't I?"

     Somehow, he looked like he was about to cry and laugh at the same time.  To Leon, it felt as though Vishnal had his heart bound in ropes, relentlessly tugging at the cords.

     "Wouldn't worry about it.  I'll catch you."

     Vishnal smiled shyly, his face glowing a healthy pink.

     "You're too kind."

     Leon felt himself blush as well; grateful for the concealing brown tone of his skin, and the way it reliably burnished and darkened at the first sign of lengthening days.

     "I've been called a lot of things, but that's a new one."

     Vishnal rolled his eyes, then turned on his heel and faced the open field, where his blades lay waiting.

     "Must you always bluff?"

     He unbuttoned his crisp white cuffs, rolled up his sleeves, and produced a set of fine leather gloves from one of his pockets; slipping them over his slender hands, listening to the slight squeak as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

     Suddenly, Leon all but forgot those old shorts had ever existed.

     "Must you always complain?"

     Vishnal glared back at Leon with a huff, then picked up his swords and got into his battle stance, letting frustration guide him as he swirled into motion.

     Huh.  Guess it really was just a matter of time.

     There was no denying that Vishnal was terribly clumsy.

     But that didn't matter much, because his appeal didn't lie in balance or poise.

     It was in how cute he was when he got worked up like this, and how clearly his face showed effort and emotion.  It was in the supple sinuous lines of his body, even as he moved it awkwardly through space.  The way the fluttering locks of hair grew lank with sweat and slipped free, veiling his intense eyes.  His bared forearms, flashing in the sun; one side corded and sparkling with pale downy hair, the other blue-marbled and velvet-soft.

     Leon had run his tongue along those diffuse tracks of painterly blue.  He had held those exquisite wrists in an iron grip, feeling the tendons flex eagerly as Vishnal arched his back to grind against him.

     You broke that poignant concentration, and scarred him forever.

     Guiltily, Leon studied Vishnal's movements for any sign of lingering injury; any pain or stiffness, any awkwardness beyond the norm.  But if it was there, he couldn't see it, and he couldn't see the use in any more self-flagellation, either.  It was over and done with, and Vishnal had lived to fight—if rather ineptly—another day.

     So he simply watched him spin and slice his heart out, until it occurred to him to start looking for something else.

     (...Think he's wearing a harness today?)

     Leon followed his outline intently; trying to determine what might be hiding beneath the pristine white of his shirt and vest, keeping his eyes open for any suspicious flicker of shadow.  He watched for any odd corrugations on his shoulders, scrutinized his trim waist for the slight indentation of rope biting at soft skin.  He was carrying himself a bit proudly, but it was ultimately impossible to tell.

     Guess I'll just have to find out when he's done.

     A cocky, knowing smirk touched Leon's lips as he reclined back on the steps on his elbows, watching Vishnal's silly, swirling, frenetic dance.  He wondered what battles he was fighting in his mind, and found himself longing to jump in there and help.

     (...Nah.  Jumping in doesn't lead anywhere good, remember?)

     All there was for him to do was keep his eyes on Vishnal until he slowly twirled to a stop.

     "...Phew!"

     Without even having to think about it, Leon instinctively stood and crossed the field, letting Vishnal pass him the heavy little blades.

     "Tired?"

     Vishnal bent double with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, then reversed the curve of his body to stretch his lower back, wincing just enough to show his teeth.

     "I'll say.  I believe I overdid it a bit."

     Leon let Vishnal relax against him, holding both swords in one hand so he could put an arm around his limp shoulders.

     "You still got some of Venti's magic goop or whatever?"

     Vishnal straightened up again, casually holding onto Leon's forearm so he wouldn't let go.

     As if I'd ever want to.

     "Waiting for me right in my room."

     Leon held him even closer as he walked them back to the palace.

     "Let's head on in, then."

     Once they were alone in the tidy sanctuary of Vishnal's room, Vishnal began to disrobe, starting with the gloves.

     "...I sense a good bit of laundry in my future."

     As he removed his vest, Leon saw that his button-down and undershirt were both translucent with sweat, finally giving him a look at what was underneath; rosy-tinted skin, ribcage rising and falling as he regained wind, no ropes this time.

     "That's good, right?  Didn't you say you liked doing laundry."

     Vishnal laughed as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it flutter into the hamper.

     "I did, yes."

     Leon smirked as he flopped on the bed, leaning back against the wall.

     "Offer's still open to do mine."

     Finding the hamper already filled to the top, Vishnal frowned peevishly.

     "...I'll try to make the time."

     He topped the pile with his undershirt, then settled down on the mattress, taking the jar of salve from his nightstand drawer.

     Leon—quick as a cobra—put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and snatched the jar away.

     "Here.  Let me do that for you."

     At first, Vishnal seemed as though he might protest, but he instead smiled bashfully as he sprawled out on the mattress with a grateful sigh.

     "Oh.  Okay."

     Leon dipped his fingertips into the mysterious substance, which really was rather fascinating; almost the same cloudy white as any ordinary balm, but with a peculiar hint of jade-colored iridescence.

     "...There we go.  That poor back has done enough twisting this way and that for one day, I would think."

     Still admiring that strange shimmer, Leon began rubbing the salve into Vishnal's sore muscles, reveling in the quiet sighs of satisfaction and the license to explore the contours of his lover's back to his heart's content.

     ...Who knew you were so perfect under that stuffy uniform of yours?

     He ran his hand up the dip of his spine, feeling the bones that sat under the skin like yet another row of pearly buttons.  Then down again along the unguarded softness of his flank, ending at the bony plateau of the pelvis.  Mind pleasantly blank, he retraced this path several times, feeling his friend—or whatever Vishnal was to him—growing ever more relaxed.

     Of course, Leon couldn't go very long without getting into mischief.

     Biting his lip to keep from laughing, he slipped his hand below Vishnal's waistband, gently cupping one of his firm buttocks.

     Vishnal propped his head on his fist, shooting Leon a playful, sleepy glance.

     "Hmm...  Might we have ulterior motives?"

     Firm, and pleasantly taut, but still a good squeezable fistful.  Since Vishnal didn't seem to mind, Leon allowed himself a satisfying squeeze.

     "Perhaps...  How'd you guess?"

     Vishnal laughed low in his throat, sweaty locks of summer-sky hair falling over his eyes.

     "Because I do, too.  You get a sense for these things."

     Leon slipped his hand free and firmly grasped Vishnal's shoulders, rolling him onto his back.

     "...Remember what I said about provoking me?"

     Vishnal smiled up at him sharply.

     "All I ever needed to know."

~*~

     "Bye, Lady Ventuswill!  See you soon!"

     The regal Native Dragon huffed casually, kicking up a small gust that stirred Kiel's brassy hair.

     "Oh, please!  I wish more of you would actually listen and call me Venti now and then."

     The young man laughed, turning back to wave his goodbyes again.

     "Um, okay...  Bye, Venti!"

     She waved back; a brisk flap of the wings, another friendly gust.

     "Bye now, Kiel!"

     Kiel waved one last time as he left the palace, stepping out into warm yellow light and long shadows.  It was nearly dinnertime, but he couldn't quite bring himself to let go of such a pleasant afternoon.

     Guess I'll take the long way home.

     He had ostensibly come to the palace to help his sister and her wife get things ready for a sale at the haphazard little shop they sporadically ran out of their front window, but had ended up spending quite a while lingering over tea and cake, and lingered an additional hour more in the fields as Vishnal showed him his prized leeks and caught him up on this and that.

     All in all, it had been a restorative day, and it was nice to remember that not every conversation was a confounding minefield.

     Kiel sighed as he shrugged off his cape and slung it over his shoulder, then carefully peeled off his gloves and shoved them into a pocket.  The weather was warming up in earnest, and the omnipresent stiffness had been gradually leaving his joints.  His hands had even been good enough to cook three meals a day and enjoy some leisurely arts and crafts without the usual vague soreness, so he should have been happy.

     Well, it isn't like you aren't.

     For the most part, Kiel's mood had been good.  But he was also operating with a certain level of baseline annoyance, just because Leon had been so erratic of late.

     Leon, of course, was erratic by nature; doing whatever his whims commanded, changing directions so quickly and deftly that it was difficult to keep up with him, saying the strangest things imaginable in any given situation.  It was part of what made him so much fun, and Kiel was mostly used to it by now.

     But what had come over him recently seemed altogether different.

     He grunted, bristled, and stared into space.  He vanished into the wilderness for hours to do Gods-knew-what, and grouchily insisted that Kiel could not come along.  When he was home, he had taken to spending a lot of time in his room, gazing broodily out the window and reading the same strange little selection of books over and over again.

     Something was obviously wrong, but he somehow knew that asking him about it was a bad idea.

     Kiel idly opened and closed his fists to ward off the building stiffness, then shoved his hands into the warmth of his pockets.

     Then again, what wouldn't be wrong?

     Leon was so outwardly carefree, and so ordinary in ways, that it was easy to forget his actual circumstances.  But when one stopped to think about it, was it only natural that he would fall into a mood now and then.

     He lost everyone.

     Kiel thought back to when he lost his mother; how the grief was so great that his body all but fell apart, and how he still hadn't quite managed to put it back together.

     Though he never spoke of her, Leon almost certainly had also had a mother, and had lost her as well.  He had also presumably lost his father, without even the brief mercy of stable intervening years that Kiel had been afforded.

     And with his parents—his entire family—had also gone every friend, teacher, and neighbor he had ever known.

     His village.  His country.  His world.

     He closed his eyes one day, opened them another, and found himself alone.

     Even thinking about it sent a shiver up Kiel's spine.

     ...I probably would have died.

     Despite the golden sun and frothy falling blossoms, these morbid thoughts gave a somber mood to his stroll down Melody Way.  He walked with his eyes on the cobbles and his fists clenched in his pockets, purposefully numb so as not to begin weeping in public.

     (Like a baby.  Like a little girl.)

     Fortunately for him, it was difficult to stay in a bleak mood for too long in this town.

     Kiel was startled out of his doldrums by a noisy thud from above, jumping slightly as he tried to locate the source of the noise.

     "Hey, doofus!"

     It was only Doug; pressing his face against the window of his room above the General Store, banging his palm against the glass and grinning down at his passing friend.  Kiel smiled back as he waved, his melancholy all but forgotten.

     "Hey, troublemaker!"

     He continued on his way with a laugh and a spring in his step, the clouds in his heart parting and letting in the evening sun.

     Even with all he had lost, Kiel had gained a lot as well.

     He had made it happen, and they had made it happen for him, day by day by day.

     And that, he supposed, was the lesson to be learned.

     He couldn't give Leon back his world, but he could be his friend in this one, whether or not he ever decided to share what was on his mind.  And by the time he had circumnavigated the village and hopped onto his own shady porch, he was ready to face him once more.

     "Hey Leon!  What do you want for dinner?  Or should we just fend again?"

     Leon—who seemed more or less his old breezy self—was leaning next to the open refrigerator, eating something sticky straight from the jar with a spoon.

     "Hey, Kiel!  Been waiting for you."

     Kiel smiled fondly.  He rather liked being waited for, and it was one of the things he missed most when his sister moved out.

     "Oh yeah?"

     Leon swallowed, spooned up another wad of whatever-it-was, and spoke through the gluey mouthful.

     "Yeah...  I'm just dying to ask you...  What is this stuff?  Besides tasty."

     At first, Kiel couldn't answer, because he didn't know himself.  But it took only a few seconds of squinting at the jar in Leon's grip before it finally dawned on him.

     "...What the heck!?  Did you just eat my entire sourdough starter!?"

     Leon poked curiously at the jar's remaining contents with the spoon.

     "Uh...  Not quite, I guess."

     Furious as he was, Kiel was almost impressed.  He had tasted a dab himself just to make sure everything was coming along okay, and found it to be so sour it was almost foul.

     "How!?  That's disgusting!"

     Leon shrugged as he began digging around in the jar again.

     "I like it.  It's tangy and kinda bubbly.  You should try some."

     It took a surprising amount of restraint to keep from slapping the spoon out of his hand.

     "...I wanted to try the bread, and now I can't, because you ate it!"

  ��  Leon, for his part, was trying his mightiest not to laugh.

     "Jeez, calm down.  Isn't it just flour and water?  The kind from the big bag in the cupboard and out of that tap over there?"

     Kiel thought Leon's face suddenly looked even more slappable than that wretched spoon.

     "And a week and a half of fermentation!"

     Still irritatingly unbothered, Leon examined the jar closely, watching the bubbles with rapt fascination.

     "...Fermentation, huh?  Interesting.  Wonder if I'll get drunk?"

     The mischievous spark in his eyes—usually so engaging—was enough to send Kiel over the edge.

     "I'm sure you will!  Then you'll fall asleep and leave those stupid plum pits everywhere so we'll get ants!  But hey, what do you care?  You'll probably just eat those, too!"

     Leon sighed, his face showing an utterly alien flicker of guilt.  He left the spoon in the jar, and meekly offered it to Kiel.

     "Here, here...  Don't get all bent out of shape.  You can probably still make a little with what's left, right?"

     Kiel recoiled.  There wasn't enough left, and even if there was, it was nothing he would want to let sit for several more days and bake into bread.

     "No!  It's unsanitary!  It's all full of your spit now!"

     Leon shrugged again, scraping the spoon around in the jar and taking another sticky bite.

     "Suit yourself, then."

     Kiel stiffened, stalwartly refusing to acknowledge that this whole situation was patently hilarious.

     "...You're actually finishing it, aren't you?"

     The spoon clinked around in the jar, Leon speaking thickly as he swallowed.

     "You said you didn't want it."

     Kiel sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.

     "Nope.  It's yours.  That was what you wanted for dinner, I guess."

     Leon smiled greedily, as though he'd been gifted a spectacular treasure.

     "I can live with that.  What about you, though?"

     Unable to stand even looking at him anymore, Kiel waved him off dismissively as he slumped to his room in defeat.

     "Not hungry anymore.  Just...  Close the refrigerator, okay?  You're letting the cold out."

     He waited until he heard Leon kick the door closed, then flopped on the bed and buried his head under a pillow before allowing himself an anguished groan.

     There was no doubt in his mind that Leon often seemed moody and chaotic because he had endured great loss, and was carrying equally great pain.

     But sometimes...

     ...Sometimes, he was just a jerk.  Plain and simple.

~*~

     Clorica gently pushed aside the towering leek greens as she squatted in the field, peering at Vishnal like a predator in the grass with her sleepy golden eyes.

     "These are a little...  What are you going to do with them?"

     Vishnal carefully eased himself down on one knee, scanning the soil for nascent weeds and delicately plucking up any errant sprouts.

     "What do you mean?  They're for the contest."

     She gently twiddled a juicy bladelike leaf between her fingers for the sharp fragrance of it, then sat down in the dirt to tend her own plot.

     "One of them is for the contest, and you have a whole little forest here.  And they give you back your entry at the end, remember?"

     Vishnal shrugged as he flicked another jagged little weedlet onto the pile.

     "I recall you saying you were going to make vichyssoise?"

     Clorica huffed exhaustedly, as though even the thought of stirring such a titanic pot made her tired.

     "...We'd have to drain the lake."

     He wasn't sure why she looked so put-upon.  Certainly, if such an absurd situation were possible, he would be the one to dive to the bottom and pull the plug.  She probably wouldn't even have to ask.

     "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it either way...  They're good with a lot of things, so I'm sure we'll use them up."

     Leek fried rice, leek quiche, leek flatbread, grilled fish with leeks, leek and potato cakes...

     Clorica nodded listlessly, as though Vishnal were monologing out loud and she was quickly tiring of it.

     "True.  But you'll do the chopping."

     ...I'd make a rank mess of it all.

     Vishnal sighed in defeat.

     "As long as you do the cooking."

     Another tired sigh.  They worked in companionable silence for several minutes, until Clorica peered inquisitively through the leeks once more.

     "...Vishnal?"

     Only half-listening, Vishnal went right on pulling up weeds.

     "Hmm?"

     Clorica stared at him flatly, a knowing spark already dancing in her half-lidded eyes.

     "Why don't you sit down?"

     Vishnal froze, trying to think up a good excuse.  He supposed he could say that he didn't want to get too dirty, or that he would just have to stand up and start watering anyway.

     But the simple truth was that he couldn't, at least not without causing himself an incriminating amount of pain.

     He had pushed Leon a bit far the previous evening, and tested his own limits rather daringly as well.  By the time they finally wore themselves out and collapsed on the bed in a weary tangle to grind listlessly against one another until completion, Vishnal's behind was a rather alarming shade of red.

     When he woke—before the sun as always—it was to a pale-but-deepening violet, and an emptiness he could not name.

     "Oh!  Well, you see..."

     Clorica—who knew well what was going on, and had seen him eating his breakfast standing over the counter while pretending to inspect the stacks of dishes in the cupboards—cut him off with a giggle.

     "...You let Leon treat you pretty rough, don't you?"

     Vishnal felt himself blush furiously as he stood to fetch the watering can.  His plot was now devoid of weeds, and he dreaded being without something to do with his nervous hands.

     "Let," indeed.

     Though he supposed she was technically correct, the phrasing was a bit off.  A better word, perhaps, would have been "begged."  For harder strikes, more pain, more passion.  To be left gasping, his heart pounding and his body threatening to buckle under him.  It was the only thing that reliably shocked him out of the anxious buzz of his thoughts.

     More importantly, it seemed to be the only way to make Leon fully lose himself in abandon.

     "It's...  How he works best."

     Clorica grinned up at him playfully; raising a hand to affectionately ruffle his hair out of habit, though this was impossible from her place on the ground.

     "Aww.  You're made for each other."

     Vishnal stooped slightly; so she could mess with him at her leisure, and to pick up her watering can in his free hand.

     "...I thought we were made for each other?"

     Clorica shrugged as she scrubbed a hand over his scalp and sent him off with a brisk pat on the cheek.

     "You can be made for more than one thing.  Like the leeks are."

     He grinned over his shoulder at her as he loped toward the well.

     "True enough."

     After a brief pause to splash his face, Vishnal filled both cans with cool, clear water, then returned to their little vegetable patch, standing obediently at Clorica's side.  She eyed him inquisitively as she stood and stretched lazily, unwilling to let the matter drop.

     "So, was he just, like, smacking you, or...?"

     Vishnal felt himself turning even more red, letting his hair fall over his face to hide it as he set the cans at their feet.

     "...The former, yes."

     Clorica nodded mildly, casting her eyes to the side in a playful parody of modesty.

     "Mmm.  Of course.  You're very smackable."

     She, he figured, would be one to know.  Clorica, after all, had done a fair share of smacking herself; with slender green willow branches, the back of her hairbrush, her own warm open palm.  It was the last of these that she playfully clapped against Vishnal's sore behind through his well-tailored trousers, making him jump.

     "Ow!  Honestly, Clorica, I think you've been doing these things just to torment me."

     Having gotten the desired reaction, Clorica giggled and smiled sweetly in satisfaction before turning deadly serious again, raising one quizzical eyebrow.

     "Maybe, maybe...  So you haven't...?"

     Vishnal sighed, his shoulders slumping as he picked up the heavy can with both hands.

     "...No.  Not yet."

     He tipped the can, keeping his eyes insistently on the soil as it grew rich and dark under his little handmade rainshower.  But Clorica, it seemed, was having none of this.  She leaned forward to stare him relentlessly in the eye.

     "But you want to?"

     This, too, was familiar territory to her; the occasional discarded candlestick, one incident with a small but well-shaped cucumber, most often her own dexterous fingers in careful twos and threes.  At first, Vishnal had found the intimacy of it almost unnerving, but it was that very intimacy that became reassuring with time.

     After all, it was difficult to doubt your own worth when someone had found their way inside you and came out, if anything, loving you even more.

     (...And yet, I still manage.)

     Vishnal eyed Clorica skeptically.

     "What kind of question is that?"

     Clorica shrugged, picking up her own watering can and gently sprinkling her turnips, sparkling droplets gathering on the lush dark greens.

     "A curious one."

     Vishnal sighed, as though a great weight were squeezing the air from his sorry lungs.

     "There's...  Things Leon doesn't do."

     It wasn't just penetration that he was referring to.  Leon also wasn't one for lingering around in bed when they were done fooling around, or really much physical affection at all beyond the reassurance and light roughhousing that had become their new norm that season.

     He would pin him down on command, but he wouldn't hold him close unless he was crying.

     He would bite and suck at his skin with wanton delight, but wouldn't kiss him on the mouth.

     In point of fact, even those animalistic ministrations had been increasingly limited to his buttocks and thighs of late.  Beach season, Leon said, was coming.  Anything else would show.

     There didn't seem to be any consideration as to whether Vishnal might want it to show.

     Clorica sidled up to him, winding her free arm around his waist.

     "...Things he doesn't do yet.  Not everyone jumps headfirst into everything like you, you know.  Just give him a chance."

     Vishnal felt himself clench, the way he always did when he was reminded of exactly how well Clorica knew him.

     What right do I have?

     What right did he have to expect so much so soon?  To expect so much at all?  To want, childishly and ceaselessly, until he made himself sick with shame?  It really was the cruelest of all embarrassments.

     For Vishnal's greatest want was simply to want nothing at all.

     To become a different sort of person entirely; glacier-like, hard and chiseled and coolly dignified.  Someone who demanded no affection or reassurance.  Who moved with grace and confidence, never cried, ate only for fuel and never for comfort, and felt no need to try the way he did, but always came up perfect anyway.

     Someone who relied on no one, but could always be relied upon.

     Leaning in to rest his cheek on the crown of Clorica's head, Vishnal laughed so he wouldn't start crying.

     "I do do that, don't I?"

     She gently nuzzled into his neck, her breath warm and soothing.

     "Yeah, well.  You're...  A special kind of person."

     What she likely meant, of course, was that he was an exhausting kind of person; tedious, needy, melodramatic.

     And yet, day in and day out, she put up with him.

     Loved him, even; in a funny, chummy sort of way.

     Vishnal smiled warmly as he held her even closer.

     "So are you."

     Their lips met briefly; tongues delicately touching tips, as was their way.

     Intimate, but nothing to suggest a deeper entanglement.      As they pulled apart, Vishnal hated himself for wanting more.

[artbyblastweave]

Harry is the ultimate Thinker/Changer, isn't he? He doesn't know who he is nor does he understand what society is, and (most of the time at least) he's struggling to find those out.

Harry Dubois (Thinker 4/Master 2, Breaker/Trump 2) is an Anthropomorphization Thinker. Any concept or object subjected to his prolonged focus and consideration will develop an ad-hoc independent sentience, which will then act as the mouthpiece for a flow of thematically appropriate psychometric readings, Real-time clairvoyancy, and vague precognitive warnings that he otherwise wouldn't have been able to arrive at.

When used on objects in passing, this generally takes the shape of one-off interjections. However, Harry has a Dauntless-equivalent ability to "invest" in his conceptual anthropomorphs, increasing the strength and accuracy of their insights, but also increasing their sway over his behavior; at extremely high tiers, his most strongly considered Anthropomorphs become capable of hijacking his body and inflicting flash-in-the-pan breaker-states. These breaker states all consist of "Basically Harry's normal Body but with a superpower," and never endure for longer than a couple of seconds. The Volition Anthropomorph provides immunity to Master-Stranger effects, The Pain Tolerance Anthropomorph diffuses damage taken over the next couple of days, the Drama Anthropomorph emanates a believability stranger effect, The Interfacing Anthropomorph provides a single burst of "do what I say" technopathy, and so on.

Harry's trigger event was waking up in the Whirling-in-Rags with total amnesia, learning from Klaasje that he was apparently a cop, and then stumbling downstairs to learn that not only was she completely serious, he was expected to resolve an incredibly gruesome and politically charged killing while completely unmoored from the world and his own past, with no one he could count on to explain to him everything he needed help with. The stark reality of seeing Lely's corpse caused him to trigger, causing the corpse to start cryptically answering his questions.

Harry's initial set of 25-ish "fully formed" personalities were constructed by his power in reference to aspects of his self-image that he'd formed before his amnesia; this is one of the monkeys-paw elements of the power, as it provides him with a line of continuity to how he thought about himself but doesn't give him a sense of how those aspects of his personality were prioritized or distributed, forcing him to constantly adjust the balance, over-or-undershooting in pursuit of the personality he "used to have." The other monkey's paw element is that the power is 100 percent in conversation with his overwhelming sense of abandonment, betrayal, and blame following the breakup with the Ex-Something, as well as his tendency to project and obsess characteristic onto things that don't have them. Now Harry is constantly accompanied by a parliament of beings who love him unconditionally, have his best interests at heart, and will never ever leave him, as long as he continuously obsesses over them and projects characteristics onto things that don't have them. He carries his gods around in his pocket. He'll always have someone in his corner. He'll always have someone to blame.

[to-star-lake]

in the early days when you joined bonten as their new advisor, you spent a lot of time with koko; drawing up business plans, managing the books, overseeing construction on new clubs and buildings.

koko had the nicest office of all of the bonten leaders. it was on the top floor of a highrise in the middle of the shibuya business district. complete with high-end leather and mahogany furniture, and a gorgeous city view.

you'd spent time with each of the bonten executives when you joined and koko was probably your favorite to work with. you found takeomi too serious, kakucho boorish, mochi too macho, the haitani's were exhausting, and sanzu..well..

koko was like you; blunt and efficient with work, a little impatient, maybe a little condescending. you enjoyed your daily work with him in his office. it was always quiet, productive, and his assistants always served the best sencha.

except today.

today when you walked in through the mahogany double doors that led to his office, you were almost decked in the face by a toy rubber basketball.

"he shoots! he scores? no! he misses!" you heard a voice yell, followed by a maniacal cackling.

what...the hell is this? the floor of koko's office, which was normally clean, surgically clean, was littered with teddy bears, squeak toys, board games with their pieces strewn about haphazardly, a jump rope, a putting green, and a trash bin overflowing with crumpled candy wrappers.

the rubber basketball that almost hit your head rolled towards the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on one end of the room and you saw a kiddie basketball hoop attached to one of the shelves. and below that, sanzu, flopped on his stomach on the floor, a different flavored ring pop on each of his fingers.

"koko..i'm really bad at basketball," he grumbled, picking himself up and walked over to koko's desk, slamming his hands down on the surface, the sudden gust of wind almost blowing the stack of papers in front of koko away.

"oh no, well, why don't you go try the putt putt?" koko sighed, not even looking up from his work, waving his hand in the air like he was shooing away a fly. "ah, y/n! finally, someone sane. please, get over here, i need you to look at something," koko waved you over when he noticed you standing in the doorway.

you made your way across the minefield of toys on the floor and greeted sanzu as he walked past you. "good morning," you smiled cordially.

he sauntered past you, looking down at you through bloodshot, half-shut eyes, his usual sinister smile plastered wide across his face. he'd opened his mouth to say, "good morning, little prin-" but then stepped on a pile of toy soldiers and tripped, tumbling to the floor, his long limbs getting all tangled up in themselves.

"uh... hey, koko?" you took a seat in the armchair beside the desk, setting your laptop down on the tabletop. "what's going on here? where's mikey?"

koko let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes. "sometimes mikey goes off on his own, and when he does, the rest of us have to take turns...babysitting," he nodded at the gangly man with bubblegum colored hair with a plastic toy putter in his hands. "i pulled the short straw today," he sighed, pushing the large binder of documents he was looking at over to you.

"koko!!"

"jesus, what now?" koko looked up, so annoyed you could almost see the steam coming out his ears.

"there's no balls," sanzu pointed at the putting green on the floor.

"well, who decided to ambush people by pelting them with the balls outside the bathroom last time?"

sanzu stared back at koko blankly.

"ugh, nevermind. could you play with something else? y/n and i have work to do." koko scooted his seat closer to you, and began circling a few line items on the page in front of you. "got this today from the guys over at the club in akasaka. these totals look off to you?"

you glanced over the document, and flipped back a few pages and reviewed the itemized lists also included in the binder. "damn," you said, looking up at koko. "these assholes are skimming."

koko opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a sudden loud popping noise. both of you turned to see sanzu on the floor, pulling the heads off of a pile of barbie and ken dolls.

koko raised his hands to his temples, the frown lines between his eyebrows deepening by the second. "jesus christ, this psychotic clown, if he wasn't the number 2 I swear to god-” he muttered under his breath.

"hey, sanzu?" you called out and sanzu's head jerked up to look at you, his eyes suddenly bright and attentive, like a child amongst the sea of toys on the floor.

"yes, princess?" he called back.

"could you go on a coffee run for us?"

sanzu tilted his head a little, confused. "a coffee...run?"

"yeah...you know, to buy coffee?"

he blinked, still confused.

"to buy...starbucks?"

"ah! you want me to buy you starbucks," he suddenly shot up.

"yes! yes, please, for me and koko, that would be great," you smiled, thinking you were finally getting somewhere with him.

he walked over to the desk. "anything for you, princess. and you can call me haru," he hummed, taking a bright pink ring pop off his finger and sliding it onto your ring finger, and a blue one onto koko's ring finger. "be back in a flash."

he turned to walk out of the office, whistling and not bothering to avoid the toys scattered on the floor, simply stepping on them as he went.

the doors closed behind him and you turned to koko, "now we can get some work done."

"let's hope he takes his time," koko rolled his eyes, sliding the ring pop off his finger, holding onto only the plastic part as gingerly as possible, a disgusted look on his face because he could tell sanzu had definitely licked the candy already.

"is it always like this when mikey's away?"

"sanzu? yeah, pretty much. but mikey tolerates him cus he's been with him longer than any of us, he's his loyal mad dog," koko sighed. "but that bastard's insane. apparently back in the day he got moved back and forth between all of mikey's captains cus nobody could handle him."

"wow. yeah, i guess i can see that," you glanced over at all the toys scattered on the floor. "seems pretty tough for you too."

"oh, i've actually done the best with him," koko scoffed. "last time, he was the haitani brothers' responsibility, they decided to take him to a hostess club. thought it'd be a good distraction for him. crazy maniac decided to pay for all the women there."

"all of them? that's..that's a lot-"

"no, that's not the crazy part. he paid for all the women, and then made them line up against the wall with liquor bottles on top of their heads and he used them for target practice." koko ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "anyway, who knows when he's gonna be back so we should try to get as much done as possible while he's away."

you nodded. the two of you worked dilligently, reviewing the rest of the books collected from bonten's other clubs and businesses in town, making one stack for ones that pass, and one that required additional scrutiny.

after a while, you stretched your arms up over your head, noticing the sun hung high in the sky and glanced at the clock on the wall. it read 12:15.

"i wonder where he is," you said, realizing it'd been almost two and a half hours since he left.

"who knows what that lunatic gets up to," koko sighed, turning the page of the binder he was leafing through.

"i actually could've used some coffee though," you yawned.

"i can have my girls make some sencha-"

just then the doors to his office burst open, and sanzu staggered in, eyes blood red, a blue gift bag in one hand, the other dragging a giant 10-foot teddy bear behind him.

"and suddenly my headache's back," koko muttered and sanzu approached the two of you at the desk.

sanzu dragged the huge teddy bear over and plopped it beside you. "i got this for you, princess."

"hah..um...where'd you get this..giant thing?" you didn't even know where to begin.

"there's a carnival downtown. i got it playing a shooting game," he grinned from ear to ear. koko groaned, knowing sanzu, by 'shooting game' he probably meant he threatened to shoot the person manning the booth if he didn't give him the bear.

"hah..i see, thank you. but why is it missing its eyes?" you asked, looking at the bear's face and noticing the eyeballs had been ripped out, only some tattered threads remained in the sockets.

"they were ugly," sanzu shrugged. "koko, i got you something too," he dropped the gift bag down in front of koko.

"thanks.." koko reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny cross-stitched sweater which could've only been made for an infant. "uh...dude, what is this?"

"it's a sweater for your chihuahua," sanzu explained, yawning and plopping down onto a chair by the desk.

"i don't have a chihuahua?"

"i could've sworn you did," sanzu tilted his head, as though in deep thought. "oh, i guess it's just you that's always yapping. it's amazing y/n puts up with this every day," he laughed, but his tone was filled with hostility.

you saw koko's body tense in your periphery and you quickly spoke up to diffuse the sudden tension. "haru, did you get coffee?"

"coffee? oh! the starbucks. yes, i did."

you stared back at him. "that's great, uh...so where is it?"

"on the corner of harajuku square, by yoyogi station," he smiled.

"what?"

"oh my god," koko groaned, raising his palms to his eyes and rubbing them in circles.

you looked back and forth between koko and sanzu.

koko took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, turning to look at you. "he bought the starbucks."

[ghost-ghost-baby]

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 2/?

Pt. 1 / pt. 3

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

Warnings: omegaverse, obviously, yandere themes, Izuku b showin that stalker side more and more, reader is still dense asf, Bakugo b MAD, hella swearing-

“Katsuki, can you let me go? I have class-“ Your words were met with a grunt, Katsuki only tightening his grip on you.

“C’mon, it’s just one class and I can come back right after and we can nap?” You sighed when he still didn’t respond, you didn’t want to hurt him, but you were already late. (You’d hit snooze on your alarm a few too many times, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push Katsuki off until you absolutely had to.)

“I’m sorry-“ you kissed his forehead, smiling at the faint purr he let out. Then you pinched his scent gland, and the omega was springing out of bed and snarling like a cat when you stepped on its tail.

“I know! I know! I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll run back!” You rushed to throw on a pair of jeans, stumbling around as you pulled them up. Katsuki only growled at you from the bed, watching you struggle with dark amusement, sleep still heavy on his mind.

“Text me if you need me to pick anything up on the way home!” You pressed a kiss to his forehead before you left, feeling slightly less guilty as his scent returned to its usual content aroma.

“Hey! L/n, wait up!” You were getting into the elevator when a familiar voice made you turn around, and you waved as Izuku ran down the hall, clutching his backpack like a lifeline.

“Midoriya! Hey! Where ya headed this early?” You pressed the ground button once he was finally in the elevator, biting the inside of your cheek when the elevator closed and you remembered just how potent his scent really was. It was fine, you could handle this, just a minute or two-

“Oh! I just got accepted into UA university! I’m doing forensic science!” Midoriya chirped, and you felt your jaw drop.

“No way! That’s my degree, what’re the odds!” You grinned, missing the way he relaxed when you didn’t suspect anything. “I can show you around if you want?” The elevator dinged and Midoriya beamed as the two of you stepped out.

“Oh really? Are you sure it’s not a bother?” His scent took on a slightly worried turn, and you were reassuring him without a second thought.

“Yeah it’s no bother at all! It’ll be nice to have someone in my classes, my friends and my roommate are doing music degrees so we don’t really have classes together!” The two of you fell into step perfectly, and you couldn’t help but flush when Midoriya walked so close your sides brushed together.

The walk to university had never seemed this short before, and the two of you were getting to class in what felt like record time. The two of you took a seat up the back, barely having time to get your books out before Mr. Aizawa entered, a thermos of coffee bigger than your head slammed down in the desk and the class shut up, the lecture beginning immediately.

“How did you find Mr. Aizawa?” You asked as soon as the two of you were outside, Midoriya had been totally engrossed in the lesson, filling five pages compared to your two. Hey, school had never been your strong point, and you wouldn’t have even made it through high school without Katsuki helping you study, even if he did yell at you for being stupid like, a lot.

“Oh the lesson was great! He seems kinda grumpy for a teacher, but he covers a lot of details and-“

“Hey, Y/n! Who’s the fresh meat! And why’s Bakugo in such a foul mood, what’d you do dude?” A familiar voice interrupted Midoriya, and you waved as Mina and Denki came into view, Denki’s arm slung around Mina’s shoulder.

“I didn’t know Katsuki had class today, why isn’t he with you guys?” You couldn’t help but frown, it wasn’t like Katsuki to not mention having a class, especially when it was in the morning like yours.

“Oh, Kiri and him had something to take care of!” Mina chirped, and a flash of something went through your heart… maybe Katsuki just didn’t want you as an alpha, and Kiri was all sorts of charming-

“L/n, don’t be rude, introduce us!” Mina was staring right at Midoriya, who had moved to stand slightly behind you.

“Oh right! Sorry! This is Izuku Midoriya, we ran into each other yesterday and then realised he lived right opposite Katsuki and I!” You ruffled the back of your hair nervously, and Midoriya couldn’t help but glance at your scent gland, your unmarked scent gland. So you and Kacchan hadn’t sealed the deal, huh? Perfect-

“Oh, he’s so cute! I’m Mina Ashido and this is my mate Denki Kaminari! What are you studying?” Midoriya seemed to relax next to you and you couldn’t help but smile, Mina was always so good at making people feel included.

“You know… you can call me by my first name, if you wanted.”

“Huh-?” Those words had you stumbling over your feet and almost face planting onto the pavement. That was a courting invitation- plain and simple, and your brain short circuited as you turned to face the omega. He couldn’t mean that, right, you’d only known him a day and you’d been far from charming and- was Midoriya holding a blanket?

“I know it’s kinda soon but being with you just feels right- and you’re such a good alpha I’m sure you have dozens of omegas you could choose from and I don’t even know when your birthday is but I couldn’t not say anything so maybe if you wanted to scent this blanket I could put it in my nest and we could start the courting process...“ Midoriya trailed off when you were still silent, eyes darting between him and the blanket and your mouth wide open in disbelief, and your happy scent pumping out in waves was the only thing stopping him from crying.

“M-Me? You want… me… to be your alpha-?” Your face went bright red as you finally processed what was happening, a warmth quickly spreading out from your chest. Katsuki briefly crossed your mind, but then you remembered he didn’t want you- and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want Midoriya.

“Mid- Izuku, sorry, I’d be honoured!”

“Bakubro- what do you think of f/ns new friend, have you met him yet?” Denki called when he and Mina finally found Katsuki and Kirishima outside one of the cafes next to the university, and the blonde almos dropped the bag of food he was holding.

“Ha- What the fuck do you mean new friend! They didn’t mention anything to me-!” Katsuki was already yelling, and Kirishima sighed as the omegas scent took on a burned tinge, waving in apology to the passer bys that frowned.

“Yeah, apparently he just moved into your building, too!” Mina continued, the two of them far from surprised by this reaction.

“What’s his fucking dynamic- if he’s the same asshole from last night I swear to god-“

“Oh… so you haven’t met him yet, he’s an omega and I’m sure you’ll like him!” Mina waved her hands as she tried to diffuse the situation. It almost did, until Katsuki remembered that scent from last night.

“What does… what does he look like?”

“Oh he’s short! Green hair that was kinda a mess but he had the cutest freckles-“ Mina started, giving Denki a light shove when he interrupted.

“And his eyes man! Biggest puppy dog eyes and they were the brightest green colour!” Katsukis blood went cold with each word, dread and rage quickly settling on his chest, and he could barely ask the next question.

“What’s his name?”

“Um I’m not sure- what do you reckon babe?” Denki turned to Mina and she frowned as she tried to remember.

“I think it was Izuku Midoriya!”

That was the nail in the coffin, an involuntary growl bubbling up in Katsuki’s chest as his vision went red. Why the fuck was Deku back?

You slowly opened the door to your apartment, frowning slightly when Katsukis scent was fainter than usual. He mustn’t have gotten home yet. You’d invited Izuku over to study, (you could really use the help, and he’d taken so many notes-)

“There’s the couch with the TV, or we could go to my room but it’s kinda small and-“

“Wow, Y/n, I thought you just invited me over to study-!” Your face went red at what Izuku was implying, and you were falling over yourself to insist you did just want to study and there weren’t any ulterior motives. Izuku was… slightly disappointed, but there’d be time for that later, so he merely took a seat on the couch and got his books out while you got the two of you a drink and some snacks. The lounge was smaller than his, but it was cozy, and the couch was far more comfortable than his. Plus, the whole place reeked like you and Kacchan, and it took everything Izuku had to stop himself purring, nothing had ever felt so right.

“I didnt know what you wanted so I just grabbed a variety, and I hope jasmine tea is okay? It’s my favourite and I’m kinda out of anything else- Katsukis meant to be doing a grocery run soon anyway-“ you set the tray down next to Izuku’s notebooks, plopping down on the couch with a sigh and taking a second before you grabbed your own books.

“Let’s get down to it then, huh?”

Taglist (v sorry if any of em r wrong)

@pasteldaze@hopeless-ro-simptic@ntngann@somerandominternetgirl@ianem005@lalaluvzen@antisocial-minnie@rogueofbullshit@hakunamatatayqueen@so-uncute@therealwalmartjesus@unlightedfool@

[roguelov]

You’re An Idiot (Loki Laufeyson Drabble)

Summary: A heated argument after a foreign kingdom negotiation gone wrong reveals your true feelings for Loki

Reader: Gender Neutral

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: None

“You idiot!” You shouted

Loki looked absolutely bewildered at your statement. “I’m the idiot? I’m the idiot? If I’m am the idiot then you are the fool of the century!”

You scoffed storming off down the halls of Asgard’s golden palace. 

“Oh no, we are not done!”

Loki appeared in front of you. You had to force yourself to a halt which caused you to roll your eyes.

He poked your chest, “How am I the idiot? Please enlighten me. How did I fail so spectacularly to deserve your wrath?”

You swatted away his hand, “You endangered everyone on the mission.”

“I did?” Loki glared, “Of course, it’s always my fault. I did this, I did that. When in fact it was Thor’s doing.”

You puckered your lips, “You always blame your brother for everything.”

“Because it is his fault! He agitated our hosts and disrespected their culture but it is apparently my fault when I simply tried to diffuse the situation.” He paused. A weighted paused that left you feeling unsettled because it meant he was thinking, scheming. A mischievous smirk spread across his lips. A smirk that instantly caused a mixture of emotions when you saw it. “And if my memory serves correctly you were the one to strike first.”

You huffed crossing your arms. “Because you failed to realize they were beyond negotiating now. Their soldiers were surrounding and readying their weapons. For someone who claims they are a master observer you are oblivious to everything directly in front of you.”

“I had it under control.” He hissed inching forward.

“You were being an idiot believing you could control the situation. They probably never had any intentions of coming to a peaceful compromise. Anyone could see it.”

Loki gritted his teeth. In a flash, a dagger appeared in his hand and he pointed it at your throat. You didn’t flinch, only glared at his threat.

“Why must you constantly put the blame on me?” Loki asked venomously.

You lifted your head and confidently replied, “Because it is your fault.”

“No,” he shook his head, “it’s more than that. You constantly point out my flaws and faults, you have no true reason to hate me but you do.”

You pushed aside his dagger. You couldn’t do this now. Ignoring his statement, you moved around him hitting his shoulder with your own as you walked by. Loki however would not have it. He grabbed your shoulders pinning you against the nearby wall. His dagger found its perch again against your throat. You groaned slightly at his forcefulness.

“Answer me. Why do you hate me?” He huffed out.

“Hate?”

“Yes, hate.”

You shook your head and muttered, “You truly are an idiot.”

You grabbed his dagger and ripped it out of his grasp. You tossed it aside listening to the clatter of metal then cupped his face. Spinning him around, you pinned him against the wall and kissed him. Loki’s eyes shot wide. But, as it dawned on him that your lips were on his, he melted. His fingers instantly wrapped around the back of your neck pulling you closer, needing you closer. Your lips moved deliciously against his and he wondered if this is what Valhalla felt like. 

You broke the kiss gently pulling away. You looked into those entrancing spring eyes. Your thumb stroked his cheekbones. So sharp, so delicate. 

“I never hated you.” You admitted under your breath. “You have a knack for trouble and it kills me to see you in danger. I berate you because you cannot begin to fathom the pain it brings me to see you in an ounce of danger. Like I said you are oblivious to what’s directly in front of you.”

His mouth fell open. The silver tongue completely silenced for once in his life. 

“I don’t hate you, it’s the far opposite.” You leaned in next to his ear. “If you truly wish to know how much I don’t hate you, find me later and I’ll show you.”

You pecked his lips once more then disappeared down the hall. Loki, on the other hand, stood transfixed. Utterly transfixed as his mind halted all functions. Slowly, his fingers reached up and skimmed over his bottom lip. Just moments ago your lips was on his, and seconds before that he was ready to rip you a part in a whole different way. Now, his heart would not stop pounding. He couldn’t stop replaying your words and your kiss. 

A smirk graced over his lips. He chuckled to himself, “Oh I intend to.”

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s little sister

In this story Tony never died in Endgame because he deserved so much better.

-Peter's POV-

It had been a few week since the massive battle against Thanos and the world has some-what gone back to normal. The main problem was that mine and Aunt May's apartment had been taken by a small family. We had no where to go. Mr Stark had decided to start making tech again and bought back Stark tower to live in.

Luckily Mr Stark had a few extra rooms and allowed us to stay with him. This was amazing as it allowed us to work in the labs for as long as we wanted, with Aunt May and Pepper's approval, and I never had to worry about hiding Spider Man from Aunt May. It also allowed Tony to keep a close eye on me when ever I got injured, which happens quite a lot when you're in a new environment and don't know your way around. Or where the doorways are, you'd thing my spidy sense would help but apparently not. Also, a major perk to living with Tony was also living with Morgan. Morgan was the most adorable little girl anyone could ever lay eyes on. I remember when I first met her.

-The day after the boss battle-

It was the day after the battle and Mr Stark had invited me and Aunt May to eat at his lake house. When we arrived I was immediately greeted but a small child, five or so, who invited us in.

"Morgan, you can't just invite people in without asking me or mommy." Mr Stark lightly scolded the child before hugging me and my Aunt while saying his hellos.

"But Daddy it's only Peter." The child rebutted shocking me. Who was this kid?

"Morgan that doesn't matter. Anyway, meet Morgan, my five year old daughter. Morgan this is Peter and his Aunt May." Tony introduced.

"Hello Morgan. How come you know who I am?" I asked her gently.

"My daddy always talks about you all the time. He said you were basically his son, this makes you my big brother." Morgan explained making Me and Mr Stark go a bit red faced.

"Dinners ready!" Pepper yelled diffusing the kind of awkward situation as we all made out way to the dinning room.

We all took our places at the table, Tony at the head, me next to Morgan and Aunt May facing me next to Pepper. It didn't take us long before the conversation started again and soon we were all laughing and joking like old friends. Well, I guess we all kind of are.

After food we moved into the living room where Aunt May started asking questions about the battle and how they figured out what to do. Tony was telling the story of when he decided to help when Morgan came over and sat on my lap. I froze up not knowing what to do and tried to capture the attention of Pepper or Mr Stark without disturbing Morgan to no avail.

"Peter, are you really my big brother?" Morgan asked looking at me with her large brown eyes.

"I can be if you want me to be." I told her smiling. Who can deny that face.

"Can you really walk on ceilings? Daddy told me a story where you walked on the ceiling in his old house." Morgan asked with her eyes lighting us.

"I can. Wanna see?" I offered. Her large eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing me walk upside down.

"Yes please." She responded.

I smiled before moving her off my lap and walking over to the wall ready to climb up only the ceiling. Once I did I looked over at everyone and saw Morgan's eyes shining like a thousands suns.

"I have the coolest big brother ever!" She yelled and dust bumped the air making everyone laugh at her enthusiasm.

"Peter be careful. I only just got you back and I don't want to loose you to a slight fall." Mr Stark told me making me smile. He does care.

"Okay Mr Stark." I said before climbing down and touching my feet to the ground.

"After everything and you still call me Mr Stark." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Fine Dad. Is that better?" I asked sarcastically but seriously. Does that make sense? Oh well.

"Much." He smirked before standing up and ruffling up my hair.

"Daddy leave my big brother alone." Morgan scolded her father and pushed him away from me.

"Don't mess with me. I have Morgan Stark on my side." I warned everyone before picking Morgan up and placing her on my hip.

"Yeah. And I've got Spider Man on mine." Morgan added making everyone laugh.

The rest of the night was spent playing games and catching up on the last five years. Also, explaining Spider Man to Aunt May because that was something I forgot to do before hand. She almost killed me but it was okay in the end.

-Present Time-

"Peter! Peter wake up!" Morgan yelled while jumping on me. This kid could do some damage.

"Alright sergeant Stark. I'm awake." I sighed while sitting up before pulling her back down and tickling her.

Her sweet giggles filled the room for a few seconds before the sound of a camera click caught my attention. I looked up to find Mr St-Dad (still getting used to it) stood in my door way with a camera in his hands.

"Come on kids. Breakfast is ready." He informed before walking away smiling like a maniac.

"Petey I'm hungry." Morgan complained and stuck her bottom lip out, looking very adorable if I do say so myself.

"Come on them. To food we go!" I yelled before picking the small child up and carrying her to the kitchen area and placing her on one of the bar stools.

"Here are your pancakes. And here are yours." Pepper informed while placing two plates of pancakes lathered in maple syrup infront of me and Morgan. Big mistake.

Once we wolfed down those pancakes me and Morgan ran off to cause our required daily amount of mischief for the day. Target one: Dad.

We slowly and quietly walked down to the lab where Dad was working on some piece of technology. Hasn't really changed.

"Okay we need a plan. What've you got?" I whispered to Morgan.

"We could sneak up on his and shout boo really really loudly down his ear. It always scares him." Morgan whispered back.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's move out." I spoke while we continued to creep down the stairs and towards Dad, who had his back turned to the open door.

"BOO!" We yelled right down his ear before quickly running back up the stairs and to the main living area.

"Hey Pepper." I greeted before throwing myself onto a vacant couch closely followed by Morgan who jumped on me. Heavy child.

"Oof Morgan. You're heavy." I fake complained in a strained voice.

"No I not. You're super strong like uncle Steve." Morgan said matter of factly.

"Am I now? How do you know that?" I asked lifting my head up to look at her.

“Daddy told me. He told me the story about how to picked a house up 'cause a bad man threw it on you." Morgan informed.

"He did now. What else did your Daddy tell you about me?" I asked in genuine curiosity.

"You'll be sat there all day before she's even half way finished." Pepper informed before getting off of the other couch and walking out of the room.

Morgan then explained every single story Dad had told her about in my absence, even stuff I didn't tell him about like the house party with Liz and Flash. What a disaster. And my time in Berlin, he even showed her the recordings I had made. I also found out that Tony managed to take all of mine and Aunt May's personal items with him after the dusting as I call it. Things like family air looms and and cameras were stored in a spare room at the lake house, which the family still owned.

After a few hours of stories I had never felt so loved in my life after hearing how much Tony had praised me in my absence. As much as he pretends to be this cold figure to the public, me and my little sister know his true cinnamon roll centre. The big softie Stark and his two minions.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 53

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,327

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: The title for this chapter will make more sense once you read it (as will the gif choice), and I am SO excited for y’all to read this one *smirks*

A Ship Has Sailed 

By the time the Sanctuary appeared through the trees, an orange halo had formed where the sun was edging towards the horizon. In another hour that orange would be joined with pink, and they would take over all of the remaining blue before being consumed by the black of night. The lighting gave the large building a bit of a glow, but it also accentuated shadows and dark corners, making them appear longer. 

It served as a metaphorical reminder of whatever was happening between you and Negan. There had been a warm glow inside of you for the past 24 hours, since the resolution of the pregnancy test argument, and you wanted nothing more than to bask in the beauty of it. However, there were also still shadows and dark corners, parts that you were ignoring or straight up avoiding. You knew they wouldn’t go away on their own, no matter how wonderful the glow, and only you and Negan could confront those shadows together. The question was if confronting them would make them disappear...or cause them to grow until they completely overtook that glow, like a cloudy night with no stars. 

Your subconscious pulled out a large stick and began popping the intrusive thought bubbles, wanting no part of this damper on what had been a wonderful day. Agreeing for the moment, you tabled the thoughts, attention instead focusing on the upcoming front gate. There was a different guard on duty than when you left, due to the 6pm shift change that allowed both day and night guards the opportunity to attend dinner. But that wasn’t what had your attention; no, what you were fixated on was the fact that, despite being only a few feet away from said gate, Negan was still holding your hand. 

The guard’s eyes were watching as you approached, so to pull away now would be even more obvious. Instead, you tried not to appear as though every muscle in your body was tensed with uncertainty as the gate swung open and you walked past. Negan only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to the guard, before continuing on as if nothing had happened. 

Sliding the guard a look out of the corner of your eye, you saw with a start that he was looking right back at you. Eyes darting forward, you tried to copy Negan’s aloof demeanor and not look as though it was taking all of your mental energy to remember how to walk like a normal human being and not trip over air. Nothing to see here, my guy. Just a typical evening stroll with your volatile and totally-not-holding-my-hand-as-if-we’re-a-couple leader. 

Negan only let go of your hand when reaching the front door of the Sanctuary, so that he could pull open the heavy metal. He then stood back, arm braced at shoulder level to hold the door, and it took a good ten seconds of you awkwardly standing there to realize that he was waiting for you to go in first. Holy crap, Negan was being chivalrous, and in public! Your subconscious squealed at the gesture and darted inside, while your brain tipped its hat to him in thanks before also walking in. Still a bit stunned over what was now two blatantly affectionate gestures in front of anyone who happened to be watching, you silently ducked under his arm and entered the building. 

Adding to your shock, once he had followed you inside and shut the door, he put a palm on your lower back to guide you down the hallway. The heat from his hand practically singed the thin fabric of your shirt with its silent possession, and it was so distracting that you almost missed it when he started making the turn to the stairwell that would lead back to his room. You felt a surge of relief that he wasn’t just sending you back to your own room after the cold shoulder moment in the woods, and some of the ice shards that had earlier formed around your heart as protection started to thaw. 

“Hold on,” you said, putting a gentle hand on his forearm. When he looked down in question, you added, “Ben said he’d leave us some dinner leftovers in the kitchen’s fridge.”

You were glad that he didn’t make a smartass quip at the mention of Ben, instead silently turning with you down a different hallway that led to the kitchen, his warm hand still present. You tensed a bit when passing a few community members in the hall, but if they noticed his touch, they didn’t show it. Instead, they were too busy dropping to their knees and lowering their heads in greeting. Your subconscious loved this, strutting past as if a royal before its subjects. Negan barely acknowledged them, while you felt distinctly uncomfortable and hoped to never become desensitized to such an unsettling sight.

Arriving at the cafeteria, you entered the large empty space, which was dimly lit due to the fading evening light coming in from the windows. Passing the rows of tables and pushing open the swinging doors to the kitchen, you were surprised to see that, unlike in the cafeteria, the overhead lights were still on in here. Since the dish washers were usually the last to leave, you assumed they had forgotten to flick off the lights on their way out. You’d make sure to have a discussion with them tomorrow, since it was important not to waste precious electricity here. Negan and his engineering team might have a fancy setup going on that allowed such luxuries as working lights, but that didn’t mean it was okay to abuse the privilege.

Crossing the tiled floor to the fridge, you had just opened the door and pulled out two small plastic containers of leftover tuna noodle casserole when there was a distinct and sudden thump. Whirling around, you glanced over at Negan, even though it was obvious he hadn’t made the noise. His gaze was fixed on the entrance to the pantry, which was located at the back of the kitchen. It was apparent the sound had come from that direction, and it was too loud to have been caused by a rodent or a box falling over. No, it had definitely been more of a human-sized thump. Since no one was supposed to be in the kitchen after-hours, the thought of an intruder made a lump of fear rise in your throat.

Negan’s gloved hands were now both wrapped around Lucille, and she hovered a few inches off his shoulder in the locked-and-loaded position as he confidently yet stealthily started across the kitchen. You followed a couple of feet behind, ready to throw the leftover casserole at any potential thief or walkers as a distraction so that Negan could beat them to death, if needed. You also still clutched Ricardo in your other hand, if the leftovers-to-the-face and Lucille-for-dessert plan wasn’t enough. You tensed for action when Negan’s own hands tightened on the bat and he stepped into the pantry’s entryway. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled in a voice so deadly that it would’ve caused bladder complications if you were on the receiving end of it.

A clatter of cans and a muffled, “Shit!” came from the pantry. You saw Negan’s eyes go wide in shock, his mouth even dropping slightly open as the hands on Lucille relaxed and lowered. Now curious as hell, you came up behind him, standing on tiptoes and peeking over his shoulder for a view into the pantry. The sight that met your eyes almost made you drop both Ricardo and the food. 

The first thing you registered was the tall, broad man who was quickly pulling his shirt down over his head to cover a well-muscled, not to mention well-furred, chest. Your brain recognized that it was Simon and was wondering what the hell he was doing undressing in the pantry, when movement behind him caught your attention. The second, slightly shorter figure was running nervous fingers through his disheveled hair and looked about to vomit with fear at being caught. Then his eyes traveled over Negan’s shoulder and saw you were also standing there, and a flash of relief came across his face.

Since it was obvious there was no actual threat to your safety, you came up beside Negan and cleared your throat awkwardly before saying, “Hiya, Ben. Fancy seeing you here this late.”

His face was so flushed that it was a wonder steam wasn’t coming off his skin, but he played along with your attempt to diffuse the situation. His voice came out quiet and croaky when he said, “Yea, uh, must’ve lost track of time.” 

You wanted to rush forward with a squeal and give him a reassuring hug and high five for what had obviously been a hot and heavy make-out session with the man he’d been hardcore crushing on. However, you also realized that this situation could go downhill very quickly, depending on how Negan reacted to the revelation. There was also the uncertainty about how Simon would handle this, since you had no clue how open about his sexual interests he might or might not be. 

That latter question was quickly answered when Simon put a proprietary arm around Ben’s waist, looked at Negan with a huge, good ol’ boy grin, and said, “Apologies for the lack of professional conduct. I dropped by to see how the dinner clean-up was going and, well, you know how one thing can lead to another.”

He said the last with a bit of a glint in his eye, as if daring Negan to deny that yes, he did indeed know how one thing could lead to another, including here in this very kitchen. At least Simon and Ben had been smart enough to conceal themselves in the pantry, rather than fuck right on the counter for all to see, the way you and Negan had just a couple nights ago. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on fucking duty somewhere?” Negan asked, voice low and full of threat. If Simon was currently leaving a guard post unattended, you knew he was in for a world of hurt. 

However, instead of looking worried, the mustachioed grin got even wider as he joyfully said, “Nope! I switched out with Luis at 6, so my evening is free as a bird.”

You had to give the man credit for appearing so relaxed and carefree, especially with a boss who could literally remove his head with a hefty swing standing semi-pissed in front of him. You weren’t sure if Simon was just that confident, or if he was that unhinged. You hoped, for Ben’s sake, that it was the former. 

Negan unflinchingly stared Simon down for a couple of long seconds, until the other man quickly lost the grin and dutifully lowered his gaze to the floor. A glance at Ben showed he was wringing his hands together nervously and also staring down at the ground, as if hoping it would open up and swallow him whole.

Satisfied at the other men’s show of deference, Negan finally growled out, “The fuck is it with all my fucking Saviors sneaking around at night to fuck the fucking kitchen staff.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and marched back across the kitchen, towards the exit. Giving one last (and hopefully reassuring) look at a still-frozen-in-worry Ben, you scurried after him, stopping briefly at the cupboards to grab two forks and cups. When he reached the swinging doors and held them open for you to exit first, he threw sternly back over his shoulder, “You better fucking disinfect any surfaces you fucking desecrated.”

He belied his terse tone by throwing a wink and smirk in your direction, though Simon and Ben obviously wouldn’t be able to see it. Hoping that his nonverbals were a more telling predictor of how he felt about all of this than his verbals had been, you both crossed and exited the cafeteria, before starting the trek up to his private rooms. 

You passed a few more community members in the halls, but if they found the sight of you and their leader walking together strange, you were too consumed with what had just happened in the kitchen to notice or care. It was obvious that Negan also had no fucks to give about being seen with you, since he twirled Lucille and whistled in that playful yet threatening way that only he could pull off.

When you reached his rooms, he led the way into his bedroom and over to the little black table with two white armchairs. Setting down the containers and forks on the table, and propping Ricardo up against the nearby armoire, you went into the bathroom to fill the two glasses in the sink. It was only when you had returned and settled into the chair to eat that you realized your mistake.

“Shit,” you blurted, earning an eyebrow raise from the man already shoveling the first forkful of casserole into his mouth. “We didn’t heat it up.”

Giving an uncaring shrug, he said around the mouthful, “It’s tuna and noodles. Tastes fucking fine cold.” 

Taking a tentative bite, you found that he was correct. Sure, it wasn’t as gooey and creamy as when warm, but the flavor was still pretty darn good, so you forgave your lack of foresight in the face of processing the Ben and Simon situation.

The two of you ate in companionable silence, and you wondered if Negan’s thoughts were as preoccupied with the events in the kitchen as yours were. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to learn that the answer was yes, Negan was definitely thinking about it. Out of nowhere, he let out a loud bark of laughter, causing you to jump and almost choke on the noodle you had been chewing. 

At your questioning look, he said, “I’m just remembering the fucking priceless look on ol’ Benny Boy’s face when he saw me standing in that fucking entryway.”

Hoping that his humorous response was a positive thing, and that Ben wasn’t further on Negan’s shit list, you questioned, “So you’re not upset about him messing around with one of your most devoted Saviors?”

Giving a quick shake of his head, he stabbed more noodles with his fork. “Fuck no. Simon deserves a bit of fucking fun.”

“What if it’s more than just fun to them?” 

You couldn’t help the question, trying to figure out just how okay with all of this Negan really was. You knew that it wasn’t only the fact that Ben had been caught in such a compromising and unprofessional position, but also that he had been caught with another man that could make this a potentially unsafe situation for him. Ben had always seemed to keep his interest in both men and women fairly quiet, which was his right to do so. If Negan showed any hint of discrimination, or gave any inclination that he would out Ben to the community, then you wouldn’t hesitate to rain holy hell down on him. 

Instead, Negan’s unexpected response was, “Well then, if it’s the real deal, I’ll throw them a fucking congratulations party.” 

Unable to hide your look of pleasant surprise, he said, “What? People deserve to find some fucking happiness where they can in this dreary-as-shit world we’re livin’ in. So long as they continue to get their fucking duties done, and follow my fucking rules, I don’t give a shit who they play ‘hide the salami’ with.”

You were a bit stunned at his progressive and open-minded thinking, and it only caused you to warm towards him even more. It also made you want to stop being so quick to see the worst in him, and the worst in yourself for liking him so much. Pushing that self-doubt from earlier in the woods even further to the back of your head, your subconscious jammed it down into a metal box so your brain could click it shut with a padlock. There it would stay, along with all the other questions still left unanswered between you and Negan, until you felt more ready to open it up and deal with them.

Finishing the last bite of casserole and feeling pleasantly full, you then registered that another basic need wasn’t being met: cleanliness. You felt a bit grimy from being out in the woods, not to mention the layer of dried sweat on your skin from both wandering around a hot forest and engaging in some extra-strenuous activities with Negan. 

“Is it alright if I use your shower?”

You swore Negan’s eyes darkened a shade at that, and his voice sounded a bit lower than usual when he answered. “What’s mine is yours, doll.”

Wow. Pretty sure your subconscious had just slithered to the floor in a pile of goo at the promise in both the words and his tone. 

Rising on now-wobbly legs from the chair, you started towards the bathroom. Before you could overanalyze or second-guess the decision to death, you whipped the shirt up over your head and tossed it to the floor. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, you gave a playful grin and unhooked your bra while saying, “Care to join me?”

He was up out of the chair before the words even fully left your lips, and you had barely made it across the threshold of the bathroom before he was on you. Arms snagging around your waist, he turned you into him and crashed his lips down on yours.

The bathroom became littered with clothes as you hurriedly pulled them off each other before stumbling back into his massive shower. You abruptly yelped when he first turned on the water, the temperature borderline freezing as it pelted down on your bare back. He gave a husky chuckle and reached over to adjust the knobs, and you sighed in satisfaction when the stream heated up against your chilled flesh. 

Trailing greedy hands across his warm skin, you followed the path of a water droplet down his chest while thinking back to the various times you had fantasized about this very moment, about him naked and wet and yours. When he bent down for a kiss, you swore he poured not just his desire but also, dare you say it, his emotions into the kiss. You had felt these tiny hints of vulnerability he was trying to share with you throughout the entire day, ever since waking up in your bed this morning. He was trying to show that although he was terrifyingly deadly and intimidating as fuck with everyone else, he could be caring and gentle with you. 

And how had you reacted? By shutting down and questioning his motives. There was a part of you that still refused to fully believe this would last, but maybe it was time to start enjoying it while you could, and not think too much about tomorrow. Suddenly, you wanted to reciprocate, to show that you had noticed how hard he had been trying to connect. And while maybe words would work, you and Negan’s communication skills had always been more about nonverbals and actions. 

Pulling back from the kiss and visually drinking him in, you were caught off guard for the millionth time by how god damn attractive he was. His hair was damp from the spray, and you wanted to lick the water droplets clinging to his neck and shoulders. However, you had another destination in mind, one that you had yet to explore but didn’t want to leave unattended any longer.

Looking up into his tawny eyes, you gave a sly smile and whispered, “Just so you know, this is the only reason I will ever kneel for you.”

Then, with gazes still locked, you fell to your knees on the wet tile...and took his cock in your mouth.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[whatifxwereyou]

The Oncoming Storm Part 14: Devil

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

A bit more plot stuff with a bit more fluff and just... Liu Kang. Yes. Thank you guys for reading~~ Next update is saturday. Not sure I can do double update, you will see why on Saturday!!! <3

Part 13 Part 15 Chapter Index

When you opened your eyes next, you were in utter darkness. For a brief second, you panicked that you’d lost your sight or were having a vision but then realized that wasn’t the case. Liu Kang’s arms were wrapped around you with the weight of sleep. You were not blind, but instead tucked under a blanket and buried against his bare chest. Apparently, you had fallen asleep next to each other, laid down, and tangled yourselves together. The blankets were pulled high and you were nearly completely covered. His chin rested against the top of your head and you could feel the calm, slow rising and falling of his chest.

This hadn’t been the first time you’d fallen asleep next to him, not by far, but it was the first time where you’d woken up and found that he was still there. You tugged on the blankets just enough to free your face, careful not to disturb him. You gasped at the cool air of the rest of your room. Liu Kang made everything warm, and you had no idea if it was because of his arcana or if it were just part of your attraction to him. You were grateful that the night had been colder. Liu remained dead asleep with his arms around you, though he shifted his head to the side so you could move a bit more freely.

There was nothing to do but to admire him in the silence of your room. You could see little beyond him and his arms, while slack, were firmly around you. From a glimpse at the window, you thought it was likely still the middle of the night. You were grateful for the moment of peace. Your heart had been so heavy over the past few days that it was a reprieve. The strength of his arms around you and the stillness of the hour were beautiful reminders that things would be okay.

You peered behind you carefully and caught a glimpse of the book and journal neatly resting on top of your desk. This hadn’t been you accidentally falling asleep together. He had, at some point, gotten up, put the books away, and then made the decision to crawl backinto your bed to hold you and rest. You couldn’t say you would have done any differently had the tables been turned, but it was comforting that he had thought to do it.

It still left you wondering what any of it meant, but you decided in that moment, that perhaps you didn’t need to know. Perhaps it would be best to live in the moment and what would be would be.

You decided to try and sleep again but as you closed your eyes, the darkness felt different. In your mind’s eye there stood a man, horned like a demon. His body shifted and changed from monstrous fiery beast and back to a cloaked man. He walked along a path through mountains so tall that they rose above the clouds that gathered about them like the sea. Trees sprouted along his path, growing at odd angles, as if they were gnarled by invisible hands. The creature walked along an ancient path and into a small cavern, hidden beyond a waterfall in the cliffside.

You tried to shake off the dream, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t a dream. You panicked. It was a vision! The creature turned to look you dead in the eye and suddenly your head was screaming in agony. You tried to close your eyes, to escape from the pain and his gaze that gnawed at you, eyes flashing from yellow to red- but there was no escape. You couldn’t control the vision in your head, couldn’t escape it. And the creature knew you were there. He grinned at you and drew closer, sickly hands reaching to grasp you.

Then, in a flash, he was far away, as if he had never looked upon you. He searched the cavern for others, as though what he did there were secret. Then he placed something within the bubbling waters at the center of the cavern. Your head ached again and you caught the hectic, rapid images of dead men in intricate robes. They were too fast to catch or understand.

You tried to scream as the world rushed suddenly around you. It felt as though you were falling from the top of that incredible mountain. When you finally stopped, you were barely aware of your body. Surrounding you was a bright turquoise lake, the water bubbled. It looked fake. Water couldn’t be that color. It was in a crater of some kind and then you knew without having to think further as though the knowledge had been granted to you. A caldera. That seemed right.

A shrine stood in the distance, a Buddhist shrine, you thought. You recognized Japanese kanji on pieces of paper hanging from the roof. The lake was steaming behind you, bubbling, and as you turned back to the shrine, the creature returned to your vision. He walked into the temple. The flowers that grew in pots on the stairs wilted as he passed them. You followed him beyond your will into the shrine. When he turned to face you, the air left your lungs and you struggled to breathe. Pain racked your body. The ringing of a dolorous bell shattered your thoughts and your body crashed into water.

It was blood red and the man stood over the water that drowned you, looking within as if not seeing you. His hand touched the surface and you tried to shut away the image to no avail.

You gasped and choked, and your eyes snapped open. You couldn’t breathe and there was something forceful and heavy pinning your arms and legs into place. It was Liu Kang, and his eyes were wide and full of fear. “Y/N! Y/N! Come back!” He was shaking you, trying to urge you awake. His open shirt was torn at his shoulder, dripping with ink and blood. You realized why you couldn’t breathe and choked on the ink bubbling in your throat. “Y/N?” He caught your eyes, desperately, hands moving to your cheeks at once. “Y/N, are you there?”

“Liu?” You felt the ink drip over your lips, but it choked you. Liu released his grasp on you and helped you move to the side. You coughed and ink poured past your lips and onto the floor. He rubbed your back and helped you clear it from your throat, urging you to breathe slower. Even so, you could feel his hands trembling. Either that or you were shaking so much that you were also shaking him.

He held you as you coughed, soothing you. After you wiped your lips, he helped you sit upright. “Breathe, Y/N.” He pushed your hair back, resting his hand again on your cheek. “Say something, please.” Your head was spinning. You tried to talk but the words didn’t come and you gasped for breath again. Panic. You were having a panic attack.

“I can’t.” You wheezed. Forcefully, but still somehow careful, Liu urged you into his arms, took your hands and then urged them both against his chest. His heart was hammering beneath your fingertips.

“Then breathe with me, Y/N.” His voice was desperate, begging you to try. You took a shaky breath in when he did and though it took a few times and his grip on you was so tight that you couldn’t move much on your own, you managed to finally breathe. The panic that had taken complete control of you melted away slowly.

You were still in your room.

Liu Kang held you, still counting breaths.

You hadn’t gone anywhere. You were safe.

It had been a vision. Nothing more. No one had seen you or taken you or hurt you.

You lifted your head up and Liu relaxed his grip. Then you wrapped your arms around him and buried yourself against his chest. You gripped at the back of his loose shirt and your body was racked with sobs. He held you tight, one arm around your middle, the other hand in your hair as he held you close. He pushed your hair back, examined your face, sighed in relief, and then allowed his hand to brush up and down your back to soothe you. “It’s okay.” He whispered, his voice no longer panicked or shaking.

You fought back the sobs and the tears and managed them away, catching your breath. Certain you could keep your composure you leaned away from his chest. Then you carefully grasped his right arm and marveled at the sleeve, torn, and stained with blood and ink. “It’s fine, Y/N.” He sensed your worry and assured you but it didn’t make you feel any better.

“I attacked you again.”

“You attacked something. Not me. It’s really fine. Just a scrape.” He assured you but he was just like you, diffusing your worry without actual proof. You tugged at the tear and tried to wipe the ink away to find the source of the blood. He grabbed your hand to stop you and pulled it to his chest. His other hand guided your cheek so you would stop staring at his shoulder. “I’m fine. I promise. Trust me.”

You nodded and tried your best not to worry but the guilt still ate you up inside. He wouldn’t lie to you. If he needed attention, he would ask for it. Liu wiped your face, presumably of ink, thumb following over your cheek bone, your jaw, and then beneath the curve of your lower lip.

“I’m sorry.” You managed to say, breath still shaky.

“Don’t be.” He rested his forehead against yours and let out a deep sigh. “We were sleeping and then you were…” He shook his head in disbelief. “Did you see something again?”

“Yeah.” You coughed and tried to relax but it felt impossible. He let go of your hand and rested it against your chest so he could feel your heart beating. You thought that checking your pulse at your throat was probably just as easy but found no reason to object.

“You’re breathing is still funny.”

“Yeah, I panicked. It’ll calm down.” You assured him. That was the last thing you needed, was him to worry about your breathing. “Everything’s still fuzzy.” The ringing in your ears returned and you hung your head and winced. It was painful to focus on what you’d seen and what had happened just before it. “…you stayed?” You weren’t sure why, of all the things that you could ask, that was what you wound up saying. Your thoughts were scattered, fragmented in ways that made it difficult to find clarity. Plus, your mouth seemed to have a way of betraying you lately.

“Yes. You were… at peace and I… then… you woke up and that ink arcana of yours? Well, it’s impressive to say the least.” He rotated his shoulder and you escaped his arms, much to his surprise. He seemed jolted by how quickly you’d done it. Honestly, you were surprised by how fast and steadily you could move too. You retrieved the first aid kit that Chen had sent with you on one of your many trips to the infirmary. “I’m fine, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Liu.” You didn’t listen to him that time. Even if it were just a scrape, you would take care of it. He’d spent so much of his time taking care of you, worrying about you, that you would return the favor whether he wanted it or not. You took a seat in front of him. Instead of arguing, he pulled his shirt off and draped it over the side of the bed so that you wouldn’t have to fight with the torn cloth to get to the wound. You cleaned up the ink and were grateful to find that he had been correct. It was just a scrape. You hadn’t thought he’d been lying but you also thought that hadn’t had time to see the true extent of the wound with all the chaos that had come with it. His skin was barely broken but it would likely bruise something fierce by morning. “I’m sorry.” You repeated, guilt dripping from every word.

“Don’t be.” Liu took your hand away from your task. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you. Are you okay?” He gently tilted your chin from side to side, searching your neck and face for damage. You couldn’t help but smile even if it faltered quickly. He then urged his hand over your side, where he knew you were wounded. “Is that…?” He tugged at the shirt.

“I’m okay, I think. Just freaked out.” You took his hand and held it between both of yours. Liu breathed a sigh of relief. You sat together like that, you holding his hand close to your chest, his other hand resting on your knee.

“What did you see?”

“I… it’s hard to explain. It’s like… something in my head is all jumbled up afterward. Like someone took all my thoughts and shook them up. Nothing makes sense. There was… a man… I think it was a man, at least.”

“The same dark man?”

“No, I’m not even really sure that he was a man. He was also a monster. He was... hiding something, I think? Two things. I saw flashes of faces and… heard this sad… I think it was a bell or a chime. The… the second place was definitely in Japan. I saw writing in a temple there. It’s… god it’s so fuzzy.” You held your head and Liu pushed your hair back.

“A man but also a monster? What kind of monster?”

“I… he had horns? And sometimes his body was… like magma. I’d… I’d use the word demon. Does that seem silly?”

“Nothing seems silly to me anymore.” Liu turned to the mess of ink on your sheets and blankets then leaned his head back with a heavy sigh. “We should talk to Raiden.”

“It’s the middle of the night. We’ll disturb him again.”

“I know. We should though, shouldn’t we?”

“Time won’t change what I saw. It never did. I…” You furrowed your brow. “I think we should wait until morning. I’m exhausted. I don’t think I can walk there.”

“Okay.” You were surprised that he’d agreed with you since the last time you had a vision, he had nearly dragged you to the infirmary. This time he had been far easier to convince. You imagine this had been exhausting for him too. “You’re right. There’s no need to panic anyone. It doesn’t seem like a warning of imminent danger. We can tell him in the morning.” You had caused a fuss last time for nothing. Raiden had sent you away. You still hadn’t met with him to properly go over what you’d seen before, so urgency seemed like a wasted effort.

“Thank you.” You gave him a tired smile. He looked uneasy still, not taking his eyes away from you, as if afraid that you would disappear if he did. “This is a mess.” You touched your sheets. It could have been worse, all things considered. Still, it would be difficult to sleep with ink everywhere.

“Easily fixed, Y/N. Don’t worry.” He urged you to stand up and then helped you take a seat in the desk chair. Then he gathered the blankets and sheets off your bed, balled them up and tossed them to the side on the floor. He didn’t let you help even when you tried to get up. In fact, he’d urged you to sit back down, placed his hands on the arms of the chair, had given you a stern look, and then set back about his task. “We’ll deal with those later.”

You didn’t argue with him. He left the room and you took the opportunity to get changed. You were drenched in ink and sweat. One of the dressing gowns would do for the rest of the night. You wiped your face clean on the discarded sheets. Liu returned seconds later, and you took the sheets from him and set about making the bed. He watched you but when you turned back to catch his gaze, he moved instead to help you finish tucking them in. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and took your hand, urging you to join him.

You sat in exhausted silence for a long while. You shivered. Your body kept going from hot to cold and you hated it. A fever, most likely. This was all too familiar, so similar to how you had been as a child. It made you feel helpless. But Liu had been right. You weren’t a kid anymore. You had spent years working to become strong. You could handle this.

“Thank you, Liu.” You turned to him and he bowed his head politely, slipping his shirt back on over his shoulders though it looked uncomfortably crusted over with ink.

“I’m glad that I was here.” He clasped his hands together and rested his elbows against his knees. “Do you think that you’ll be able to rest after that?”

“I… honestly? I could pass out right now. I’m beat. But also, I’m afraid to sleep.” This was the second time that you’d had a vision in a handful of days and both had happened when you had been barely on the brink of sleep.

“I can’t rightly blame you. I imagine rest is the most important thing for you to do to recover. Whatever shadow comes with this gift, Y/N, it weighs on you. Even now you are pale and breathing funny.” You nodded. There was no arguing with the truth.

“I know. It’s hard. I slip from sleep to… terrifying vision so quickly, it’s… jolting.” You furrowed your brow. “You need rest too, Liu. I beat you up again.”

“You tried to beat me up.” He offed you a nudge of his elbow and you smiled. “I’m fine.” He ran his fingers through his messy hair, lost in a war in his head that you could only guess at. “I should probably go.”

“I…” You hesitated and you caught his smile and turned your gaze. You meant to say that he probably should have, that you were afraid to be alone, that you had stolen enough of his time that night, but none of those came out. Just a stuttering mess of nothing. “Well…” You drifted off. You didn’t want him to leave. He’d been there to protect you both times now. What would have happened if he hadn’tbeen there to wake you up? The ink had almost drowned you! Besides, it had been a huge comfort to be held after it had happened. Even if it made things complicated, his arms were strong and comforting. You longed for them to be around you again. You felt very selfish to think so fondly of it. Even the stifling warmth that you’d woken up to under the covers had been absolutely wonderful.

“I could stay.” He averted his eyes but the smile he tried to hide was hilariously obvious. You wound up doing the same and turned your gaze. “Then I can make sure you get to Raiden first thing in the morning.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to rest in the peace and comfort of your own bed? Not covered in ink? Knowing that I can’t possibly attack you when you’re that far away?” You offered him a way out. He was worried about you, that was clear, but he didn’t need to lose sleep over you. He pulled his shirt off and draped it over the back of your desk chair with a lazy throw.

“There. Not covered so much in ink anymore. I’ll sleep like this.”

You nodded but looked anywhere but at him because looking at him had consequences. Guilt. Attraction. Admiration. In all honesty, you were so exhausted that you didn’t have the energy for that conflict. If Liu Kang wanted to wrap his big strong arms around you and hold you while you slept, half naked, then you were going to let him do it, damnit. You wouldn’t fight it. Not right now. Besides, you wanted to be held. Even as you came to terms with that very silly urge, you could see the man with the horns like a demon, his eyes flashing and burning into you.

What did any of it mean? You held your head in your hands and rested your elbows on your knees. Liu pushed your hair away from your face, watching you with those dark concerned eyes. He looked as exhausted as you felt. God, he was bruised all to hell. Your eyes lingered on the darkness on his stomach. It was all because of you. Why couldn’t your arcana have helped you that much when you’d tried to summon it against Kung Lao that afternoon? Kung Lao had earned a bruise or two. Liu Kang hadn’t. You laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Liu laid next to you and did the same, shoulder brushing just against yours. It felt suddenly very funny to fall asleep purposely next to him and you laughed in disbelief. It also felt pretty nice.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing feels real.” You turned to find him watching you already. He picked up your hand at your side and laced his fingers with yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.” You weren’t sure that was true, but there was no point in being morose.

You let go of his hand, rolled away from him onto the side that wasn’t pained and stared out into your room. Your floor was stained with ink. From there you could just see the outline of the flower that Kung Lao had given you in front of the books that Liu had put away. You closed your eyes and felt Liu shifting behind you. His arms then slipped around your middle and tugged you closer to him, so that your back was pressed against his chest. His hands were warm and comforting, settling against you once he’d pulled the new blankets around you.

Your stomach was twisted into knots again for a thousand different reasons. Liu’s lips rested against your shoulder, his breath warming your skin. You got goosebumps; you couldn’t help it. His hand rested flat against your stomach, the other beneath you. “Please promise me that you’ll wake me if you need me.” He turned to whisper in your ear.

“I will.” You managed to fight against every instinct in your body so you could reply. His lips lingered close to your ear, his messy hair tickling at the side of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. He lingered before allowing his lips to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Good.” He leaned back and rested his head against your pillows and you laid, staring ahead of you for some time. Your stomach was too twisted into knots for sleep and your nerves were completely shot. But Liu Kang’s soft, soothing breathing as he drifted to sleep gave you some peace. His grip went slack on you but his arms remained around you. You fought sleep for some time, afraid of what vision would await you. More visions didn’t come, but sleep did.

[chicgeekgirl89]

The House in the Pines Where the Road Ends

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Andrea Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, The Reyes Family

Rating: K

Summary: Four sisters. Nine nieces and nephews. Dozens of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Carlos has a big, loud, over-the-top family, and T.K. is about to meet all of them at the annual Reyes Family Barbecue. It's a day that promises food, fun, and lots of nosy questions. All T.K. wants is to make a good impression and all Carlos wants is for his family not to scare off his boyfriend. When a stray baseball ruins the fun, both T.K. and Carlos will discover that neither of them ever needed to worry.

A/N: I am so happy to FINALLY introduce you to my version of the Reyes family. They have become a character all their own and I love them very dearly. Get ready to see and hear more about them in upcoming fics! I cannot say enough thank you's to @bluenet13​ who has read this fic approximately a billion times in all its different stages, has beta'ed the heck out of it, and still wants to be friends with me.

For the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: Sports Injury

Read on Ao3

“Wait, but are you sure this shirt is okay?” T.K. asked, twisting around in front of the mirror to look at it from every possible angle.

“Do you really think my family is going to decide whether or not they like you based on your shirt?” Carlos asked with a laugh.

“It’s their first impression of me,” T.K. said, fussing with the hemline, trying to get it to lay exactly right. “I just want it to be good.”

Carlos came up behind him, wrapping his arms around T.K.’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “They are going to love you.” He pressed a kiss to T.K.’s cheek.

T.K. turned in his arms so they were face to face, anxiety trickling through his veins. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” Carlos told him. “I love you too.”

“Your family is important to you and I guess I can’t help feeling like…there’s a chance that if they don’t like me…”

“T.K…” Carlos sent him a look of fond exasperation.

“I know!” T.K. said quickly. “I know it’s ridiculous. But if they don’t like me, I don’t know where we go next.”

“I don’t think we need to borrow trouble like that,” Carlos said. “You already know my parents love you. And so do Elena and Elías.”

They’d had dinner at Carlos’ second eldest sister’s home a few weeks back. It had been fun to meet her and her husband along with their daughter, Carolina, and twins, Marco and Diego. Marco was rambunctious and spunky while Diego was more mild mannered and T.K. had enjoyed watching Carlos chase them around the backyard, playing baseball, tag, and wrestling.

But meeting one sister and her family was completely different from attending the annual Reyes Family Barbecue where there would be hundreds of aunts, uncles, and cousins to try and remember.

“Trust me,” Carlos said. “Elena will have spread the word and you’ll already have pre-approval before we even get there.”

“What if I call someone the wrong name?” T.K. asked. “I still think you should have written up a family tree like I asked you to.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “There’s no point. We’re adding to it like every day there are so many of us. You’ll never be able to remember. If you’re not sure just call them Gabriel or Valentina. There’s a forty percent chance you’ll be right.”

“This isn’t fair,” T.K. said, burying his face in Carlos’ shirt. “I have like, four family members. The playing field is so uneven I don’t even have a chance.”

Carlos kissed his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy the food. That’s all anyone expects of you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” T.K. grumbled.

“Listen, if anybody should be concerned in this situation, it’s me,” Carlos said.

“You?” T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“You just said, you come from a small family. My family is big and loud and all up in each other’s business. Francesca alone might be enough to make you run all the way back to New York.”

Carlos had talked before about his wild child fourth sister, Francesca. Apparently she was a force to be reckoned with and had caused quite a bit of trouble as a kid. According to Carlos every time he’d gotten in trouble, it had actually been Francesca’s fault. Well Francesca and Adriana, Carlos’ cousin who was more like a fifth sister. She and Francesca had been born within weeks of each other and been an inseparable duo ever since.

“New York is a pretty long way to run,” T.K. said. “And I’ve gotten kind of used to sleeping with you. I don’t really want to have to break in a new mattress. Oh, and for all I know you’ve gotten kind used to having my exercise bike in your dining room and I would have to buy a new one of those, plus moving costs are out of sight and I am on a civil servant’s salary here.”

Carlos kissed him again. “Come on. We’re already late and if we don’t get there soon then I will be in trouble.”

T.K. had already visited the Reyes family ranch a handful of times, but he had never seen it quite like this. Cars lined every inch of the drive up to the house, from pick-up trucks to mini-vans and everything in between. “Is this a family barbecue or a Lady Gaga concert?” T.K. asked as they got out of the car.

Carlos laughed and reached for his hand. “I told you.”

“Yeah I hoped maybe you were exaggerating a little bit,” T.K. said as they walked toward the driveway. As if he hadn’t been nervous already, now he felt overwhelmed. He was generally charming and good with people, but this was…a lot.

Carlos tensed. “Come this way,” he said, voice low as he tugged T.K. more to the side of the driveway, where a row of cars hid them from view of the house.

“What are we doing?” T.K. asked in confusion.

“We’re—”

“Carlitos don’t you even try! We see you over there!” a feminine voice called.

Carlos winced and looked at T.K. “I’m just going to say ahead of time that I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Two women came around the line of cars, each of them holding a drink. “You weren’t trying to hide from us were you?” the taller of the two asked.

“No I was just trying to get T.K. inside without the third degree first,” Carlos said, giving each of them a pointed look.

“Carlitos we’re not going to give him the third degree,” the second woman said, her many earrings flashing in the sunlight. “We’re just going to try and prepare him for what he’s about to face.”

“You don’t need to prepare him,” Carlos said with a sigh of long suffering. “There’s nothing to prepare for.”

“Oh my god Carlos, you cannot just drag him in here without some proper preparation,” the first woman said, turning to look at T.K. “So, you’re the firefighter stripper, huh?”

T.K.’s eyes went wide and he looked to Carlos who had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. “For the last time, he’s a paramedic now and he has never been a stripper.” He opened his eyes and took a breath in a clear attempt to calm himself down. “T.K. I would like you to meet my sister Francesca.”

“His youngest older sister,” Francesca clarified looking T.K. up and down. “You’re hot enough to be a stripper.”

“And my cousin Adriana,” Carlos said loudly in an attempt to stop his sister’s comments. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” T.K. said with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the awkwardness. “Carlos has told me a lot about you.”

“Is it about how we were always getting him in trouble when he was a kid? Because that’s a lie,” Adriana said. 

“Total lie,” Francesca echoed. “So, how has it been, living in sin with my brother?”

“Oh my god Francesca can you just let us get through the door first?” Carlos cried.

She shook her head and grinned. “Nope. This is way more fun. Besides, Adriana got to know about him first, so I wanted to meet him before everyone else.”

“Did Carlos tell you not to tell Tía Maria you’re living together?” Adriana asked.

“Um, no, he didn’t mention that,” T.K. said, looking once again to his boyfriend.

“I didn’t really think it was necessary,” Carlos said.

“Tía Maria has strong religious opinions,” Francesca said.

“Oh is she not…” T.K. began to pull his hand from Carlos’ but his boyfriend held on firmly.

“Tía Maria is fine with the gay, she’s just not all right with fornication,” Adriana said with a grin, eyeing T.K. for his reaction.

“Oh my god, forget it, we’re going home,” Carlos said, trying to turn around, but Francesca grabbed his other arm.

“Nuh uh hermano,” she said sweetly. “Mom and Dad are expecting you. I already texted them and told them you’re here.”

“Wait hold on, I’m confused,” T.K. said, feeling slightly panicked as the conversation moved so quickly around him. “What do I need to know about Tía Maria?”

“Tía Maria is very against pre-marital sex,” Francesca said.

“In her mind we’re all pure, sweet, innocent little virgins, waiting to give up our virtue to our husbands on our wedding nights,” Adriana said, her face suggesting that she’d rather throw up than submit to that particular lifestyle. “Little does she know that ship has sailed.”

“Under the bleachers with Jake Thompson in the eleventh grade,” Francesca said.

“In Mike Kowalski’s backseat…”

“After prom with Sebastian Chavez…”

“Okay that’s enough of the sexcapades thank you,” Carlos said, looking disgusted.

“You didn’t think I needed to know this?” T.K. said looking at Carlos.

“I am not ashamed of us living together,” Carlos told him. “I don’t care if Tía Maria knows.”

“Ugh barf,” Francesca said. “God I wanted to be mad at you for caving and leaving us all alone at the singles table but you’re so grossly in love I don’t even want you there anymore.”

“Can we go in now?” Carlos asked. “Is this little interrogation over with?”

“Oh you can go in, but it’s far from over,” Adriana said, wrenching T.K.’s arm away from Carlos and tucking it into her own as she walked him toward the house. “So, T.K. What can we get you to drink? Beer? Margarita? Or are you a wine snob? You look like you could be a wine snob.”

“He’s from New York, they’re all wine snobs there,” Francesca said.

“T.K. doesn’t drink,” Carlos called from behind him. “You already know that.”

Adriana nodded. “Just checking. That’s cool. I did the sober thing for like six months once. My skin was so great.”

“Okay, I’m taking T.K. inside now,” Carlos said, rescuing his arm from Adriana’s grip. “You two can go back to wherever it is you came from. I’m going to guess…the gates of hell?”

“So rude Carlos,” Francesca said with a roll of her eyes.

“Come on Cesca, I need another margarita,” Adriana said, pulling her toward the back of the house.

“But I have more questions!”

“Questions later! Margarita now!”

They disappeared around the side of the house, leaving Carlos looking embarrassed and T.K. feeling like he’d just been through a whirlwind. “You can literally ignore everything about them,” Carlos said as he opened the door. “Just pretend they don’t exist. That’s what the rest of us do when they get like this.”

T.K. had a feeling neither Francesca nor Adriana liked to be ignored, but Andrea greeted them immediately as they walked inside, leaving him no opportunity for further questions or conversation. “T.K.! Carlitos! Welcome!”

There were a few other people milling around inside, but it seemed like most of the family was in the backyard. T.K. could hear music playing and the smell of barbecue wafted through the glass slider doors that led to the oversized back patio.

“Sorry we’re late Mama,” Carlos said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s my fault,” T.K. said. “I had a shift and it ran over.”

“No apologies necessary,” Andrea said, waving a hand. “I understand the important work you boys do. I’m just sorry your dad couldn’t make it T.K.”

“He said to tell you hello and that he will be here for sure next time,” T.K. told her with a smile.

It had been a huge relief to find out that the party was scheduled while his dad was on shift. The last thing he needed was one more thing to give him anxiety about meeting Carlos’ family.

Andrea caught his face in both hands. “We are so glad you’re here T.K.” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Now, let’s get you something to drink. I’ve got lots of that fancy water you like.”

The back slider opened as Andrea pulled a water from the refrigerator for T.K. “Boys! Bienvenidos!” Gabriel boomed as he stepped inside, bringing the scent of barbecue with him.

“Gabriel close that door before the air conditioning gets out,” Andrea scolded.

“Of course mi amor,” he said. “I was just looking for another set of tongs. Daniel is going to help with the second grill.”

“They’re in the pantry,” Andrea said. “Where they always are.”

Gabriel paused to kiss her on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve?” Carlos suggested with a cheeky smile as he grabbed a grape off the counter and popped it in his mouth.

Gabriel snorted. “Probably.”

“All right now you two, head on outside and join the party,” Andrea said. “You don’t want to be stuck in here with me.”

“Are you sure?’ Carlos asked. “We can stay and help.”

“No, no,” Andrea said quickly. “Gloria will be back in a minute. Go! Enjoy! Introduce T.K. to the family.” She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell Tía Maria that you live together. You know how she gets and I do not need another lecture on how I raised my children with loose morals.”

“Yes, for everyone’s sanity, please keep that to yourselves,” Gabriel said, reappearing with the tongs in hand. “No need for my sister to know that you are breaking the commandments.”

T.K. turned and looked at his boyfriend. “Everyone seems very concerned about this.”

Carlos shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Everyone is overreacting. Tía Maria isn’t that scary.” He kissed T.K. on the side of his head and grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Besides, there are so many people here, we might not even see Tía Maria.”

They stepped out the door into the backyard. To the left was a play set that dozens of children were taking advantage of. To the right were several grills, all smoking away, the tables next to them already piled high with food and drink. And underneath sprawling oak trees dozens of picnic tables and lawn chairs had been set up, all of them full of people talking, laughing, and eating together. 

“I knew you should have made that family tree for me,” T.K. said, starting to feel really nervous now as he saw exactly how many people had scattered across the backyard.

They made it about four feet before they were accosted by well meaning relatives. Cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone seemed to want to meet Carlos’ new boyfriend. T.K. smiled and nodded and tried in vain to remember everyone’s names. Carlos hadn’t been exaggerating, there were a lot of Gabriels and Valentinas.

“Ay, okay, leave the boys alone,” a woman finally said, interrupting the melée. She sported a longer version of Carlos’ curls and T.K. remembered her face from some of the family photos. “Shame on all of you, they haven’t even eaten anything.”

She turned a warm smile on them as the crowd dispersed and went back to their merriment. “Hola T.K. I’m Teresa.”

Carlos’ oldest sister. She and her husband Javier lived in San Diego with their four kids, Valentina, Eva, Gabriel, and Bianca. Their visit to town was the reason the barbecue had been scheduled for this particular weekend. 

“Nice to meet you,” T.K. said, immediately feeling the same warmth and comfort radiate from her that he did from Carlos. 

She turned and pulled her brother in for a hug, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. “Come on. You can sit with us. I’ll fend off the nosy relatives,” she told them.

“Thank you,” Carlos said in relief. “I didn’t think it would be quite this bad.”

“You never do,” she said with a smile as she led them to the picnic table where her husband Javier was sitting with another couple that T.K. thought he recognized. 

“T.K. this is my husband Javier. And have you met Lucía and Justin yet?” Teresa asked.

Ah, Lucía. Carlos’ third oldest sister. She and Justin lived with their kids in McKinney and had driven up for the weekend. They had been set to attend the dinner with Elena and Elías but one of the boys had ended up in a soccer championship so they’d had to cancel. 

“So T.K. I hear you’re from New York? Nice to have another East Coaster join the party,” Justin said.

“Oh yeah, Carlos said you’re from Philly right?” T.K. asked.

“Born and bred,” Justin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t cheer for the Giants do you?”

T.K. smiled. “I’m more of a Mets fan actually. Football’s not really my thing.”

“Well that means I don’t have to hate you, but don’t say that too loud in Texas. Football is life here,” Justin told him.

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. replied.

“Tío Carlos!” a gaggle of kids ran up to the table all of them clamoring for Carlos. 

“Tío Carlos I got on my soccer team at school!”

“Can you come play baseball!”

“Did you know my tooth is falling out?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Everyone talked at once and Carlos seemed to take it in stride, giving hugs and ruffling hair, looking at loose teeth, and promising to come and play in a minute.

“Hey, all of you, adiós,” Elena said. “Leave Tío Carlos alone. He’ll play with you later.”

It took a few more admonishments from their parents, but eventually the children dispersed to different corners of the ranch. “We’re doing you a favor T.K.,” Lucía told him, rocking baby Nicolás back and forth. “Once Carlos goes with the children he doesn’t come back.”

“He’s their favorite uncle,” Justin explained.

“And for good reason,” Javier added. “His knees are young and spry.”

“You guys are exaggerating. The kids love everybody,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

Teresa shook her head. “It’s okay to admit that you’re their favorite Carlos. You’ve earned the honor.” She looked at T.K. “Carlos is too modest.”

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. said fondly and he could see Carlos blush a little bit.

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Carlos said. “We’ve been here half an hour and no one has offered me any food. What has happened to this family?”

The situation was fixed immediately and T.K. found himself with more food than one person could possibly hope to consume, sitting and listening to the Reyes siblings recount stories from their childhood.

T.K. felt the bench next to him shift and turned to find Francesca and Adriana joining them.

“Did Carlos tell you about the time he ran away from home?” Teresa asked.

Carlos groaned. “No, do we have to tell this story every time?”

“Yes, because it’s hilarious,” Elena said. “He was what, about six at the time?”

“I was sixteen so yes,” Teresa said. “Carlitos was mad because all of us sisters got to go to a movie and he didn’t. So he wrote a note saying he was running away and never coming back.”

“And then he disappeared for seven hours,” Lucía chimed in. “Mom was beside herself. They checked the entire house, called all his friends, she was sure he’d been eaten by a coyote.”

“Well I was the one who found him,” Teresa said with a smile. “Up in that tree,” she pointed several feet to the left, “crying because he’d climbed up too high and couldn’t get down.”

“We had to call the fire department to come and get him,” Francesca said with a smirk.

“And when they got him down, did he get in trouble?” Elena asked. “Nope. Because Mama was all—“

“My baby!” all four women chorused together. 

“Carlitos never gets in trouble,” Adriana said. “Ever. All he has to do is bat his eyelashes at Tía Andrea and she starts talking about how innocent and sweet he is and how he could never start a fight or break a window…”

Carlos had put a hand to his forehead and looked like he was in physical pain. “Are you done now?” he asked.

“No way,” Lucía piped up. “We still have to tell T.K. about the time you drove the tractor into the pond.”

“The pedal was stuck!” Carlos cried.

“That’s what he says every time,” Francesca told T.K. “It’s a lie.”

Carlos burst forth in a tirade of Spanish, likely exonerating himself from the tractor-pond fiasco and all of the women immediately began to contradict him. T.K. wasn’t sure whether to smile or intervene as they all talked over each other. His high school level Spanish could only pick up the occasional word. 

“This happens every time,” Elías said. “They’ll calm down in a minute.”

“A minute?” Javier said. “Forget a minute. We can all leave, they’ll be at it for at least half an hour now.”

Things really came to a head when Francesca stood, slammed her hands against the table, and shouted, “I did not put that goat in Lucí’s bed, that was Elena!”

“I watched you do it!” Carlos yelled back.

“Well then your brain is broken because that is not what happened!” Francesca said, pointing a finger at him.

The argument was broken up by the arrival of Andrea, followed closely by another woman T.K. didn’t recognize. “Girls! Ya basta! Qué esta pasando? Arguing in front of our guests, what is wrong with you?” she said, setting a large plate of taquitos in front of them.

“Disculpa Mama,” they all muttered, but T.K. caught Francesca giving Carlos the finger under the table and then she jumped a second later when he pinched her leg.

“Honestly,” she scoffed at them. “I am ashamed of all of you. T.K. I apologize on behalf of my daughters. I did not raise them to be like this.”

“See?” Lucía said with a roll of her eyes. “We’re all in trouble, but Carlitos is completely innocent.”

“Of course he’s innocent, he would never argue in front of guests,” Andrea said. “Did you all say hello to Tía Maria?”

“Hola Tía,” they all chorused.

“And Maria, this is T.K., Carlos’ boyfriend,” Andrea said with a smile.

T.K. felt himself stiffen under the intense gaze of Carlos’ infamous aunt. But he smiled and waved a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said. She turned and looked at Teresa and Javier. “Cuándo será la primera comunión de Marco y Diego?"

T.K. caught a glimpse of Francesca who smiled at him and raised her eyebrows in an “I told you so” kind of way. 

“Later this summer,” Elena said smoothly. “We will send you an invitation of course.”

“They are a bit behind, no? Why the delay in this important milestone?”

“Tía, with Covid and everything it all just got pushed back. Don’t worry,” Elena told her.

“You’d better get a move on,” Adriana said. “We wouldn’t want them to miss out on all the blessings of the Lord.”

Tía Maria’s eyes narrowed as she picked up on Adriana’s sarcasm. “Is there something wrong with wanting my nephews to grow up properly in the church?”

“Of course not,” Andrea said quickly. “And they are Maria. Very good, pious little boys.”

T.K. saw the mischievous glint in Francesca’s eye as she opened her mouth. “So T.K., you live with your dad?” 

Everyone at the table froze and turned to look daggers in her direction. “Ah Maria! The watermelon! We forgot it inside, come on,” Andrea said quickly, glaring at her daughter over her shoulder as she ushered Maria away.

“Cesca!” Teresa chastised as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I was just trying to take the pressure off of Elena,” Francesca said innocently, taking a sip of her mojito.

“You were trying to stir up trouble,” Lucía said as the baby began to fuss. 

“Well someone has to keep things fun around here!”

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Marco and Diego ran toward them, kicking up dirt as they skidded to a stop by the table and interrupted the conversation. 

“Mom can I have another cookie?” Marco asked.

“I want a drink but Carolina said I can’t have a soda, but can I?” Diego asked.

“And Tía Teresa, Gabriel wants to know, can he get his Switch out of the car now, because he said you said he could get it later and now it’s later,” Marco spoke up on behalf of his cousin.

“Okay, hold on, everybody take a breath,” Teresa said.

The group momentarily broke up as everyone went to tend to their children’s needs and make sure they had eaten something besides cookies and chips. 

“So, are you ready to run back to New York yet?” Carlos asked when they were the only two left at the table.

“I think I’m holding my own all right,” T.K. said. “You were right about Francesca though. She’s…something.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not that actually was her being on her better behavior. I swear you’d never know she was working on a masters in biochemistry.”

“She’s fun,” T.K. said. “And she and Adriana clearly have the most dirt on Carlitos.”

“Maybe we should leave now,” Carlos said with a groan. “They’ll keep at it as long as you’ll listen.”

“I like it,” T.K. said, taking a sip of his mineral water. “It’s fun seeing you like this. Baby brother Carlos is a whole new side of you.”

Carlos blushed a little bit. “The way they’d talk you’d think we were all still kids.”

“It’s sweet. They adore you.”

“I—”

Carlos was interrupted by Valentina, Teresa and Javier’s youngest, who came running over, crying so hard she was hiccuping instead of breathing. “Tío Carlos!”

“Valentina, qué pasó?” Carlos asked worriedly, gathering her into his arms and sitting her on his lap.

“Marco me dijo que no podía jugar pelota con él,” she sobbed, her little heart so clearly broken over her cousin’s refusal to let her play ball with him.

"Lo siento, Valen. That's not very nice." Carlos hugged her close and kissed her hair. "Pero no le hagas caso. What if we get you a cookie, will that help?”

She shook her head, lip stuck out in an adorable pout, fresh tears threatening to spill over.

“Two cookies?”

She held up three little fingers and Carlos opened his eyes wide in mock surprise. “Tres?! Ay Dios mío.” He shook his head. “Come with me, pero no le digas a mamá.”

He slid Valentina off his lap and offered her his hand, which she grabbed onto eagerly. He looked at T.K. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” T.K. said, watching them walk over to one of the tables. 

Carlos pointed to several different options, Valentina shaking her head at each one until he found the kind of cookie she liked best.

T.K. felt a presence next to him and turned to find Francesca had returned. She had a strange look on her face. “You know he’s never brought anyone home before. Not like this.”

T.K.’s breath caught in his chest. “I didn’t know that.”

“He’s happy,” Francesca said. “Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.” She turned and looked at him. “You make him happy.”

“I do my best,” T.K. said. “He makes me happy too.”

“Yeah.” She looked at her brother again, adding some fruit to Valentina’s plate. “He wants kids. You know that right?”

“I do,” T.K. said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re good with that?”

T.K. looked at his boyfriend who was tenderly wiping the last of the tears from Valentina’s cheeks. They had talked about it of course. A few times. In passing. He knew where Carlos stood. And he knew that he wasn’t sure what kind of dad he would be, but also that he would do anything to make Carlos happy; including facing his own fears about being a father. “He’ll be a great dad,” was his answer.

She squinted at him, then squared her shoulders. “I’m only going to say this once and if you ever tell anyone I will deny it and shove your balls so far up your ass you won’t know how to get them out again. Carlos is special. And I know you’re all city boy, New York, squeaky clean, firefighter paramedic, or whatever.”

“But if I hurt him you’ll kill me?” T.K. asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” she looked at him like he was crazy. “Teresa will. She’s like his second mom. She’ll take you down so fast you’ll never even see it coming.”

T.K. laughed. “I have no intention of ever breaking his heart. I promise.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s good.” She cocked her head the way Carlos did when he was about to say something he knew was funny. “You’re pretty great for a stripper.”

“Okay, one more time. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work, but I have never been, and have no intention of being, a stripper,” T.K. said firmly.

“That’s what they all say!” she tossed over her shoulder as she got to her feet and flounced away to find Adriana. 

“What was my sister telling you?” Carlos asked as he returned, Valentina now seated happily with some other cousins at a kid sized picnic table. “Oh god, was she talking about the time I got arrested for skinny dipping in the lake because there is so much more to that story than the way she tells it.”

“No,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows, “but now I want to hear the rest of that. No she was just…being a good big sister. You’re lucky to have so many people watching out for you.”

Carlos softened, his hand seeking T.K.’s. “And now I have you too.”

T.K. squeezed gently. “Yes, you do.”

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

All in all the day was going well. T.K. had handled every nosy question, every argument, every weird thing his sisters or relatives did with his usual charm and self-confidence. He fit in. 

All Carlos had really wanted was for T.K. to like his family, but seeing them like him right back…it was doing strange things to his heart. He hadn’t known until this moment how much it meant to gain his family’s approval of his relationship. He’d convinced himself that he was fine either way, and he probably would have been. But seeing them all joke and talk and laugh together was beyond his wildest dreams. And it was making him think some pretty crazy things about the future.

They’d chatted some more with his siblings and a few other family members who’d stopped by the table. But now Lucía had gone to put the baby down for a nap, and Teresa and Elena had been pressed into kitchen duty with his mother, while the men of the group had been enticed inside by a game on TV. Which left only Adriana and Francesca at the table. 

“So, T.K., now that the boring adults are gone, tell us everything,” Francesca said, a sneaky smile on her face.

“Ooh yes,” Adriana said, getting comfortable on the picnic bench. “Tell us all your dirty secrets T.K. You lived in New York so do you actually work for the mob? And how hard was it for you to learn to put gas in a car at such an advanced age?”

“Unfortunately no mob connections, although that probably pays better than firefighting or being a paramedic,” T.K. said with a laugh. “And the learning curve on driving was actually pretty quick. We have to fuel the engines, even in New York.”

“Well that’s boring,” Francesca said as she picked up a tamale. “Come on, you have to be more exciting than that. Any secret lovers you’re keeping back there on the side?”

“Cesca!” Carlos said sharply.

“I’m watching out for you!” Francesca cried. “I mean if you two have an open relationship or something that’s your business, but if he—”

“No,” T.K. said quickly. He looked at Carlos. “There’s no one in New York. Or anywhere else.”

Adriana and Francesca both wrinkled their noses, but Carlos hardly noticed, too busy looking at T.K. who was gazing at him with so much tenderness and love. He was taking it all in stride, the insanity, the prying. Questions that might have set him off a year or two ago he now brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Ugh, come on!” Adriana said. “There has to be something. You basically grew up on the set of Gossip Girl. You have to know at least one Kardashian or something.”

“Yes, how many private helicopter rides have there been?” Francesca asked eagerly. “Or penthouse ragers? You have to have been to a penthouse rager of someone famous!”

T.K. shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Adriana pouted. “So boring. Not one secret?”

“Oh, I have secrets,” T.K. said with a grin. He laced his hand through Carlos’. “But only Carlos gets to know them.”

“You play dirty, Strand,” Francesca told him with an approving smile. 

Carlos had had enough. “Come on,” he said, pulling T.K. to his feet and away from the women without a backward glance or apology. 

“Where are we going?” T.K. asked and Carlos wished the answer was a dark corner somewhere that he could kiss his boyfriend’s face off and show him how much he appreciated his efforts today. But that would not be happening anywhere on the premises. Francesca and Adriana could sniff out a couple having a quickie from a mile away. They’d caught Teresa and Javier in a Sunday School classroom during Elena and Elías’ wedding and had never let them forget it. Although Bianca had been born nine months later so apparently getting caught hadn’t been too much of a turn off. He definitely wasn’t risking it though. 

He pulled T.K. over to the patio where the music had cranked up to an all time high now that his cousin Rafael had arrived and was playing DJ.

“Okay,” T.K. said, looking nervous all over again. “You know I can’t really dance right? That first night at the bar, that was all just to get in your pants, you know that right?”

“What?” Carlos feigned surprise and then rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. And considering that you managed to get into my pants about half an hour later, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

“Not the point Carlos.”

“I’ve seen you dance. You’re fine,” Carlos told him.

“Yes in the club!” T.K. told him, eyes wide as he took in the way some of Carlos’ relatives were dancing around them. “This is like something out of Grease! Did you all rehearse this before you got here?”

“Look, Justin’s dancing.” Carlos nodded to where Lucí had managed to get a moment free from her children and pulled her husband onto the impromptu dance floor. 

“Justin’s been in your family for five years. He’s had practice.”

“You’re just going to follow my lead,” Carlos told him confidently as he pulled T.K. close. “Relax.”

“I can’t relax. Your Tía Maria looks like she’s about to come over here and remind us to leave room for the Holy Spirit,” T.K. hissed.

“Like I said earlier, I don’t care what Tía Maria thinks. I haven’t for a long time. I just want to dance with you.” He cocked his head and turned on his most charming smile, eyes pleading a little bit.

T.K. rolled his eyes and groaned. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”

“Exactly,” Carlos allowed himself a full on smirk.

He put one hand on T.K.’s shoulder, the other on his hip and gave a comforting little squeeze. “And now you just follow my lead.”

He took a half a step forward, slowly, not following the music at all, encouraging T.K. to step back with his opposite foot. They managed fine for about three beats until T.K. stepped wrong and they stumbled over one another’s feet. “Sorry,” he said, face going slightly pink. “I told you.”

“You’re tense,” Carlos said. “You can’t dance when you’re tense. Relax. It’s all in the hips.”

“I’m from New York. I barely have hips at all, let alone beautiful, sexy, latin caderas like yours.”

Carlos laughed and bumped up against T.K. with said caderas. “You like my caderas?”

“You know I love your hips and normally I wouldn’t complain about anything you do with them, but everyone is staring at us.”

“They are not.” Carlos took a quick glance around the area and found that indeed, many of his relatives were staring, and he could read wedding bells going off in their eyes. “Okay they are but that’s because they’re nosy, not because of your dancing. Don’t worry about them. Focus on me.”

“Just don’t blame me if I break your toes,” T.K. said nervously.

“I think I’ll survive,” Carlos told him. “I’ve never seen you like this before. I like it.”

“Like what?”

“Completely off your game,” Carlos told him. “You never approach anything with less than one hundred percent confidence and charm.”

“Well I only do things I’m one hundred percent confident in,” T.K. said. “That way I never have to look like I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Ahhh, now it all makes sense,” Carlos said with a laugh.

The music changed and Carlos shifted so that they were closer together, one hand entwined with T.K.’s, the other on his lower back. “So. Tell me the truth. How glad are you that your dad didn’t come today?”

T.K. laughed. “Oh god so glad. You know how he is. He and your sisters would have spent the entire day trying to one up each other on embarrassing stories about us. And he might have won.”

“Oh I doubt that. We’ve got about two more hours until my sisters bring up the bathtub incident.”

T.K.’s eyes widened. “The bathtub incident?”

“Let’s just say it was very expensive and mostly Francesca’s fault.”

“You know, your sisters seem to take a lot of the blame in these stories even though you have a starring role in all of them. I’m starting to wonder who’s really telling the truth here.”

“Shh,” Carlos said, pulling him a little closer. “I’m a cop. I’m very trustworthy.”

“Uh huh.” T.K. looked amused.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

Carlos leaned forward so his lips were touching T.K.’s ear. “You’re dancing.”

And indeed he was, their bodies swaying back and forth, T.K. following all of Carlos’ movements without any trouble. T.K. opened his mouth to respond but he was interrupted by the reappearance of Adriana. “I take it back,” she said, causing them both to pause their movement.

“Take what back?” Carlos asked in confusion.

“There’s no way he’s a stripper. Not with dance moves like that. Yikes.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted,” T.K. said.

“Good,” she said, giving him a mischievous wink. “I like to keep people guessing. Now step aside gringo and let us show you how it’s done.”

She grabbed Carlos’ hand and before he could protest she’d pulled him out to the center of the dance floor, yelling at Rafael to put on something they could really move to. Rafael smoothly transitioned into a song Carlos recognized and Adriana grinned as she began to salsa, clearly expecting him to partner her. He rolled his eyes, but obliged, catching her around the waist and moving back and forth in time with her.

“We approve,” she said as he spun her back and forth.

“Of my dancing?” Carlos asked.

“No, of T.K.,” she said with a smile. “We really like him. Me and all your sisters.”

It should not have warmed his soul so much to hear the words, but it did anyway. “Good,” Carlos said. “Is that why you pulled me out here? To tell me you like him?”

“No, I pulled you out here so he could check out your ass while you dance,” she said, looking over his shoulder, her grin widening. “Which he totally is by the way.”

“Adriana, shut up,” Carlos said, but he smiled anyway and dipped her, really letting loose as the music hit the chorus. Because apparently he was not above showing off for his boyfriend.

By the time the song ended he was sweating and breathless and so was Adriana. “You’ve still got it cousin,” she said. “Now go on. Go over there and take a victory lap with your boyfriend and his puppy dog eyes.”

Carlos looked over to find T.K. looking suitably impressed at the edge of the patio. Carlos shook his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as he walked over. “Well someone’s been holding out on me,” T.K. said when Carlos got close.

“It’s just dancing,” Carlos said.

“Just dancing? Carlos that looked like…I don’t even know, but it was freaking amazing!” T.K. said, his eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could dance like that. Why are you over here dancing with me?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and pulled T.K. close to him. “Trust me, Adriana might be a state champion in Salsa, but I prefer dancing with you any day.”

“She’s a state champion?” T.K. asked in surprise.

“Yep,” Carlos said, pulling him back onto the dance floor. “Three years in a row.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, Adriana is good at pretty much anything she decides to be good at. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“That doesn’t explain where your dance moves came from,” T.K. said, looking expectant.

“I um,” Carlos thought for a half second about lying before he decided to give in and tell the truth. “I may have partnered her for a few years.”

“How long is a few?”

Carlos sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. “Like fourth through seventh grade.”

T.K.’s jaw dropped. He pointed a finger at Carlos’ chest. “I can’t believe you’ve never told me that!”

“Well it’s not like it’s relevant to everyday conversation! When would it have ever come up?”

“I don’t know!” T.K. shook his head. “What made you stop?”

Carlos shrugged. “I’m good, but I’m not championship level good. And I was getting into baseball. And Adriana is…really difficult to work with.”

“Carlos! T.K.!” They both turned to find a very welcome presence interrupting their conversation.

“Tía Luci,” Carlos said, pulling back from T.K. so he could give her a hug. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

“Well you know I had a date querido. T.K. mi amor! It’s so good to see you!” The many bracelets she was wearing jangled loudly as she hugged T.K. with equal fervor. 

T.K. had been to several Sunday dinners at this point and Tía Luci had accepted him exactly the way Carlos hoped she would, with nothing less than complete and total love. She’d always encouraged Carlos to be exactly who he was and love whoever he desired. It helped of course that she’d had four husbands of her own and was currently single and dating with astonishing frequency.

“It’s good to see you too Tía Luci,” T.K. said with a smile.

“I thought mom said you had a pottery class,” Carlos said.

“I had a date at pottery class,” she said and then leaned closer. “And the clay wasn’t the only thing that got handled, if you catch my meaning.”

Carlos’ cheeks burned as T.K. laughed. His aunt was a free spirit and that meant she was pretty free with most things. Including her sex life. And while Carlos didn’t judge, he definitely didn’t always need all the…details she provided.

“Oh don’t look so scandalized,” she admonished, squeezing his arm. “It’s not like you’re a saint either, sobrino. With a boyfriend like this you must get up to all kinds of nonsense. And if you’re not you should start. You’re only young once!” Someone caught her attention and she waved. “I must go see Alejandro, but you two have fun dancing.”

“How about we run away to New York together?” Carlos asked as she floated away.

“You love her,” T.K. said knowingly.

“I do. But I don’t need to know every detail of her dating life. And no matter how many times I tell her that she doesn’t quite seem to get the message.”

“Seems like Francesca and Adriana come by it honestly,” T.K. said. “Oversharing runs in the gene pool.”

“Yes along with nosiness, a strong desire to meddle, and a life long obsession with the Astros,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

“And yet somehow you have none of those qualities,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggested he was being sarcastic.

“Me?” Carlos said. “What are you talking about? I don’t do any of those things.”

“Maybe not so overtly. But when you found out Mateo’s house had blown up, you organized all those donations to help out him and his roommates.”

“Because it was the right thing to do!”

“Of course it was. But it was also meddling. Kind meddling. But meddling. And we’ve talked about the cow eyes.”

“What do the cow eyes have to do with anything?” Carlos asked, slightly annoyed.

“When you want to know something that I don’t want to share, you waste no time turning them on. And you know that neither I, nor anyone else can resist. Nosiness.”

“That’s not nosy! It’s…digging for information.”

“Information your chosen suspect may or may not want to share. The suspect being me. Admit it Carlos. You’re more like your family than you’d like to believe.”

“I—“ Carlos struggled to come up with a reply. “I don’t like that you’re siding with my sisters. That was not the point of bringing you here. You’re supposed to back me up.”

“Oh I will never speak to your sisters about this,” T.K. told him. “I’ve got your back. I just want you to know that I know.”

Carlos opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a small body hurtling into his legs so hard he almost fell over. “Tío Carlos!” Marco practically yelled. “You said you would come in an hour. It’s been more than an hour. Will you pleeeeeeeeeeeease come throw the ball with me? You promised!”

Carlos looked a T.K. who smiled and nodded toward Marco. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone with my sisters after what you just said. I’m scared about what other things they might put into your head.”

T.K. laughed and gave him a little push. “Go. I’ll try not to be swayed further to their side.”

“You heard him! Go! Go!” Marco pushed Carlos from behind over toward the grassy area past the picnic tables.

“Marco, Marco, relax,” Carlos said, breaking away from his nephew’s aggressive pushing. 

“I waited all day,” Marco told him with a glare.

“And you’re going to wait longer if you’re not polite,” Carlos told him.

Marco looked only slightly chastened. “Sorry.”

“Mhmm.” Carlos tried not to roll his eyes. “Do you have a ball and a glove?”

“Yes!” Marco ran ahead and grabbed them off a picnic table. “Here. This one’s yours. Abuelo got it out of the garage for me.”

Sure enough it was Carlos’ high school mitt. It was beyond worn out, but it would do for a quick round of catch before he rescued his boyfriend from the clutches of whichever sister had decided to grill him next. 

“Okay you go over there and I’ll go over here,” Marco said excitedly, running several yards away, ball clutched in his hand.

His first throw took Carlos by surprise. “Whoa! You’re getting really good at that,” Carlos said as he tossed it back.

“Dad says I might make the travel team this year,” Marco said excitedly as he delivered another throw that made Carlos’ palm sting.

“Yeah I think you’ve got a good shot at it,” Carlos told him. “How’s your fast ball?”

“So good! But I have to work on my curve ball. It doesn’t always go the right way.”

“Ah, I’ve got a trick for that. Let me show you.”

It didn’t take long for all of Carlos’ nieces and nephews to realize he had left the adult table and was available for fun. After he finished with Marco, a game of tag was requested by his other nephews. Then Bianca and Elena wanted to show him the crafts they’d been working on and make him a friendship bracelet which he immediately put around his wrist. 

Nearly an hour had gone by and Carlos began to look around for his boyfriend, feeling guilty for having left him alone for so long. But just as he began making his way back to the picnic tables, Carolina found him and wanted to tell him all about a school project she’d finished recently.

One minute he was chatting with her about orca whales and the next something was colliding with his skull, hard and fast. He felt his head snap to the side, fingers automatically going to touch the spot directly behind his ear.

Carolina had frozen her eyes wide. “Tío Carlos? Estás bien?” she asked tentatively.

The world seemed to tilt and he sank down slowly onto a picnic bench, fingers fumbling against the weathered wood as he tried to aim successfully and not miss and fall to the ground instead. “Sorry!” Marco called, running over. 

Oh. The baseball. That’s what had hit him. That explained the extreme throbbing that had started and why he could already feel a knot growing at the site of impact.

“You hit Tío Carlos right in the head!” Carolina scolded.

“I didn’t mean to!” Marco protested back. “I just threw it, that’s all! I was working on my curveball! It wasn’t my fault!”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Carlos said calmly, even though his vision was starting to blur at the corners. “It was an accident.”

“See? It’s fine!” Marco told her. 

“I’m telling Mom!”

“No you’re not!”

The two continued to squabble and Carlos closed his eyes as their raised voices cut through his skull like a knife. “Carolina,” he interrupted finally. “Can you go find T.K. for me? Tell him I need to ask him something.”

“Yeah.” She narrowed her eyes at Marco. “I’m still telling mom,” she hissed, causing him to take off after her as she ran away.

Carlos swallowed against the sudden queasiness in his stomach. He was regretting the number of tamales he’d eaten now.

The sunlight was really starting to hammer into his skull so he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through his nose, trying to keep his stomach from becoming violent. A hand on his knee startled him. “Carlos?” T.K.’s voice was quiet and concerned. 

Carlos opened his eyes and found his boyfriend or rather, several blurry versions of his boyfriend, looking up at him. “Hey,” he said quietly. Even talking seemed to hurt his rattled brain.

“Are you okay? Carolina said something about a baseball.”

“It was an accident,” Carlos said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Okay,” T.K. said slowly, clearly trying to gauge the situation and read between the lines of what his boyfriend wasn’t telling him. “Where did it hit you?”

Carlos took another slow breath in through his nose as his stomach clenched. “Behind my ear.”

“Which side, this side?” T.K. asked, lifting a hand and gently probing at Carlos’s skull.

His fingers found the knot almost immediately and even though his touch was gentle it sent a stab of pain shooting through Carlos and his stomach lurched. He jerked away, unsuccessful in suppressing a tight lipped moan.

“Okay, hey I need you to talk to me, all right?” T.K. said, his voice going serious as his fingers instinctively sought the pulse point on Carlos’ wrist. “How bad is your pain?”

Carlos had had concussions before; you couldn’t play varsity baseball without the occasional injury. This was ten times worse than he remembered. “Like a seven?” His voice was shaky and opening his mouth at all felt like a huge risk given the discontent happening in his stomach. “And there are about four of you right now.”

“Did you lose consciousness?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

Carlos squinted at him. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Answer please,” T.K. said, eyes serious.

“Carlos Nicolás Reyes Moreno.”

“And where are we?” 

“My parents’ ranch.”

“Good. And what’s your badge number?”

Carlos opened his mouth and found his mind strangely blank. “I—”

“You can’t remember?” T.K. asked.

“I—no.” He felt panic start to well up in his throat. “T.K…”

“It’s okay,” T.K. said calmly, gently cupping the non-injured side of his face. “You’re going to be all right. But we need to go to the hospital, okay?”

“Oh god,” Carlos groaned partly from pain and queasiness and partly from panic. “Any chance we can sneak out of here without telling my family?”

“Oh, babe, I think that ship has sailed,” T.K. said sympathetically.

“Carlitos? What happened?” Andrea approached at a rapid pace, the Reyes sisters flanking her along with Adriana, Tía Maria, and Tía Luci. He was sure his father wasn’t far behind.

Even as pain clawed at the inside of his skull Carlos tried to assuage their fears. “I’m fine, just a little accident,” he managed.

“Carolina said Marco hit you in the head,” Elena said worriedly. 

“Head injuries are very serious,” Tía Luci told them. “I once dated a tennis player who got a concussion.”

“He got hit with a tennis ball?” Elena asked.

“No, we got a little overly enthusiastic in the bedroom. No half assed sex from that one!”

Carlos heard Tía Maria start muttering a prayer.

“Andrea! What’s going on? Is he all right?” Predictably Gabriel had caught up with the group, a large grill spatula still in his hand.

“Let’s just give him a little room to breathe,” T.K. said calmly, holding up a hand to keep them from coming in closer to smother him with concern. “Francesca if you could go get me some ice and a towel please.”

She disappeared in an instant toward the back of the house.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Teresa asked.

“I am fine,” Carlos insisted again, squeezing his eyes closed as another wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him. He would be. As soon as he was away from his coddling family and in his bed at home.

“Carlitos you be quiet and listen to your boyfriend. He is a professional,” Andrea scolded, worry coloring the sharpness of her tone.

“Yes, T.K., what does he need?” Gabriel asked.

“We’re going to get some ice on here and go from there,” T.K. said. “I don’t think an ambulance is necessary at this point.”

Francesca returned with ice and a towel. “Thank you,” T.K. said, wrapping the ice up tightly and then ever so gently pressing it against Carlos’ head.

He hissed in pain, knuckles gripping the edge of the picnic bench so hard he felt splinters of wood begin to dig into his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” T.K. murmured sympathetically. “We need to try and get the swelling down.”

“It’s okay,” Carlos said through gritted teeth. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his head to hurt more, but the added coldness of the ice was proving to be too much and he felt the tight hold he had on his composure starting to slip. He wanted to leave, he wanted to lie down and sleep, he wanted T.K. to hold him while he cried like a baby because everything hurt like a motherfucker and he was embarrassed as hell about it. 

His family was still carrying on around him, he could hear them asking questions and making plans, but all he focused on was T.K.’s free hand, the one that wasn’t pressing ice to his skull. That hand was resting comfortingly on his knee, thumb moving slowly back and forth. Thank god T.K. was here to mitigate the chaos.

He didn’t realize he was starting to drift away until T.K.’s hand squeezed his knee more tightly and then moved up to his shoulder, keeping him upright. “Hey, hey, no, don’t go to sleep,” he said urgently.

Right. Sleep was not a good idea. Carlos forced his eyes open and tried to focus on his boyfriend’s worried face, but it swam in front of him and made his stomach churn. “T.K…”

“I’ve got you,” T.K. said firmly. He turned and looked up at Andrea and Gabriel who had come to hover a little closer. “We need to get him to the hospital.”

“I’ll drive you,” Andrea said immediately.

“You’re entertaining all these guests mi amor,” Gabriel said. “You stay, I’ll take the boys.”

“We’re all coming,” Lucía said immediately.

Carlos felt his heart rate quicken at the thought of his entire family standing around in the hospital waiting room and the kind of chaos that would cause. He didn’t need to worry though. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” T.K. said quickly. “There’s no reason to believe this is anything more serious than a concussion. It will be quick, not worth everyone coming out.”

“I will update you the entire time,” Gabriel promised.

“Text messages every five minutes,” Andrea ordered.

“Can you stand?” T.K. asked and Carlos nodded his affirmative, immediately regretting the motion when the throbbing in his skull increased.

T.K. took his arm and Carlos got up on wobbly legs. He made it about two steps before his knees began to give out and he felt his father grab his other arm. “Steady mijo,” Gabriel said.

It seemed like an eternity before they passed through the house and into the front driveway. Out of sight of his family Carlos felt the last of his control slip away. The blood drained from his face and he gagged. 

“Whoa!” T.K. said, quickly lowering him to the ground as he began to heave out the contents of his stomach onto the concrete.

By the time it was over Carlos’ pain had ratcheted up to somewhere in the nines and he heard himself letting out a pathetic whimper as his brain exploded inside of his skull. “Easy Carlitos, easy,” his father said, the words barely registering as he and T.K. lifted Carlos back onto his feet and basically carried him the rest of the way to his dad’s truck.

He ended up with his head in T.K.’s lap, his boyfriend continuing to hold ice against his head with one hand, while the other ran soothingly up and down his arm. “Stay awake for me, all right?” he said.

“Trying,” Carlos said, his voice sounding cracked and broken. Mostly he was trying to breathe because he really didn’t want to throw up again. Every bump in the road, every touch of the breaks, sent pain ricocheting through his head. “It really hurts.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. We’re almost there,” T.K. said softly. “You’re all right, keep breathing, okay?”

Gabriel pulled directly up to the ER doors and he and T.K. helped Carlos into a wheelchair. If he’d been in any less pain he would have found the entire thing humiliating, but every bit of his energy was currently being spent on staying awake and not vomiting all over the floor.

“I’ll park the car and meet you inside,” Gabriel said as T.K. pushed him through the doors.

The next few hours were a hellish blur. They ran a battery of tests including an MRI and a CT scan, asked him dozens of questions, all of which he was able to answer thank god.

Despite his best efforts, he threw up twice more, T.K. holding a basin in front of his face each time, then rubbing his back comfortingly as he curled into a ball, knives stabbing through his head after such violent movement.

He hated being reduced to a shaking, moaning mess, especially in front of his father, but there was no help for it. The pain was only growing worse and there was no relief in sight, not until the tests came back.

“Breathe,” T.K. said, running a thumb back and forth over Carlos’ hand. “Carlos you have to breathe and try to relax.”

“I can’t.” The words came out on a whimper. “It hurts.”

“Carlitos, you have to try,” his dad said, sounding beyond concerned. “The more tense you are the worse it will feel.”

Tears slid down his cheeks as the pounding in his head beat on relentlessly. It had been hours and there was never any relief to the waves of pain, just a constant throbbing, knifelike agony. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled in on himself, ragged, stuttering breaths tearing from his chest.

“I’m going to go find the nurse,” Gabriel said. “My wife and daughters might be better at nagging, but I’m sure I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

He disappeared out the door and the next thing Carlos knew the bed was shifting as T.K. climbed in with him, wrapping his arms tightly around Carlos’ body. “What are you doing?” Carlos choked out.

“Taking care of you,” he said, his lips by Carlos’ ear. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Breathe. Just a little bit longer and we’ll get you some medication. I promise.”

T.K.’s fingers stroked up and down his arm and he continued to murmur soothing words into Carlos’ ear. Carlos felt his muscles slowly begin to unclench one at a time. The agony in his skull began to ease, just enough that he could breathe easier and think a little more clearly.

His dad must have given someone a piece of his mind because within fifteen minutes the doctor had returned. “Okay, Mr. Reyes we are looking at a grade two concussion here. All your scans came back clear so while painful, your recovery should be pretty easy.”

“No brain bleed?” T.K. asked.

“No. No brain bleed, no skull fracture.”

He could see T.K. and his father sag in relief. They were both putting on a good front, trying to be strong for him, but in that moment the worry in the room finally lifted off like a cloud, dissipating into calm.

“We’re going to keep you for a little bit, start you on some strong Tylenol to help manage the pain. I’ll come check on you in an hour okay?”

It was another two hours before they were finally able to go home, Gabriel dropping them off with promises to bring Carlos’ car over in the morning.

He was more steady on his feet now and the medication had helped both his headache and the nausea, so with T.K.’s help he was able to manage the stairs without too much difficulty.

T.K. sat him on the bed and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I can do it,” Carlos said, but his boyfriend gave him a stern look and continued. 

This behavior persisted until Carlos was settled in bed, an extra pillow behind his head, a glass of water on the nightstand along with additional Tylenol. “Better?” T.K. asked as Carlos leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Carlos told him. The lights were dim, causing his splitting headache to dull to a throbbing one instead. 

He heard his phone buzz for the thousandth time in the last few hours. “Do you want to see who that is?”

He couldn’t look at the screen without feeling like someone had stabbed a knife through his eyes. Hopefully that would pass quickly. It was only a grade two concussion and most of his pain was coming from the actual injury itself, not his brain rattling around in his skull.

T.K. punched in Carlos’ passcode and then scrolled through. “You have forty seven unread texts. Most of them are from your sisters. A few from your mom and aunts. And one reminding you to vote next week.”

Carlos groaned. “You’d think I was dying. This isn’t even as bad as the time Elías flipped the four wheeler over while we were on vacation. He broke his leg in two places and had to have surgery and nobody was all over him.”

“Oh, the texts aren’t about you,” T.K. said, eyes lighting up with mirth.

Carlos squinted at him. “I’m confused then.”

T.K. cleared his throat. “You listen to T.K. and do what he says. That one is from Teresa.” He scrolled a little further. “Congratulations on picking someone who’s not a dick. He actually comes in handy, that’s Adriana.” He snorted. “And this one from Francesca just says, ‘Remember not to fuck again until your brain is better.’”

“You know, Tía Maria campaigned pretty hard to send her to a convent when she was a teenager. Some days I think we should have let her,” Carlos said.

“The rest are variations on how great I am and how you need to eat a lot of soup and get a lot of rest. And I have a text from your mom.”

Carlos cracked one eye to look at him. “Are you going to share?”

“Mm…I’m not sure you can handle this one.”

T.K. was grinning from ear to ear, clearly beyond proud of himself and delighted to have information Carlos didn’t. 

“T.K. just read it. I can see that smug look on your face.”

He cleared his throat. “T.K. thank you for taking care of our Carlitos. You are such a blessing to our family.” T.K. grinned. “They like me.”

“Of course they like you.”

“They really like me.”

“Yes, T.K. My family loves you. Just like I always knew they would.”

“Well I appreciate that. But you really didn’t have to get hit in the head with a baseball just so I could endear them to me with my paramedic skills.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Marco,” Carlos said. “He’s the one with an arm like a Major League baseball player.”

“Yeah he can really throw huh?” T.K. said, brushing a gentle hand through Carlo’s curls, careful to avoid the area the ball had struck. “How’s your pain?”

“Tolerable,” Carlos said. 

“And the nausea?”

“Better,” Carlos said. 

“Good.” T.K. seemed relieved. “Listen, next time you want to get out of a family activity, you can just tell me. You don’t need to give yourself a grade two concussion. Just say the word and I will fake an emergency and get us out of there.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t fake an emergency after hour one,” Carlos said. “Thank you for today. You getting along with my family it…” Tears threatened to close his throat and he forced them back because he really wanted T.K. to know what he was feeling. “It means everything.”

“They’re easy to get along with,” T.K. said. “And we have a lot in common.”

“Oh?”

“We all love you.”

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 4

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

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Chapter 4

1997 (One year later)

The convention center had been beautiful under the blue Minnesota sky when Liam had arrived, and it was still beautiful now with its windows backed by heavy showers of falling snow that threw diffuse, moving light onto the walls inside the conference room. Beautiful and alarming.

Liam’s university was located in Florida. Florida was quite nice in January, and besides, there were theme parks. Didn’t people always like theme parks? But instead, the conference was being held in Minnesota, and this was the final day. In an hour, Liam and his colleagues, other faculty of the history department, were supposed to start the twenty-some-hour drive home.

“Could have been at Disney World,” Kurt remarked, startling Liam. Liam had been too busy watching the storm to realize Kurt had come up beside him.

“What on earth?” Liam asked, quite rightfully surprised, not by Kurt’s sudden unexpected presence, as he was used to that by now, but because Kurt was not a history professor, and therefore didn’t have a reason to be at the conference.

“Thought I’d drop in,” Kurt said. “See how things were going. Anyone interested in your research on Tollense?”

“Everyone. It’s very exciting.” Liam kept his voice low. “Am I talking to myself, or can everyone else see you?”

Kurt smiled at him. “I wouldn’t give you that kind of reputation. I’m visible.” Liam could see it was true, as Kurt’s good looks were attracting a few appreciative glances. “Are you ready to come home?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, we’re due to head out soon. Not that we’re really looking forward to it.”

“Well, your co-workers can head out whenever they like. I’m taking you home.”

“What?”

Kurt looked surprised by Liam’s surprise. “You’re from Florida. You have no idea what to do with snow. They’re pulling locals off the roads, Liam. I'm not letting you drive in this weather.”

“But you don’t even know how to dr— wait.” Liam felt a bit of a shiver crawl up his spine. “Oh, no. I’m not teleporting home.”

“I’ve been doing it for thousands of years. With humans. You know that. It’s perfectly safe.”

“No.”

Now a bit of hurt flashed over Kurt’s features, and like all his dark expressions, it was vaguely unsettling. “You don’t trust me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just don’t want to teleport.”

“Why on earth not?”

Liam hated to lie to Kurt. Partly, it was because Liam was not entirely sure that Kurt couldn’t somehow tell that he was lying. Kurt claimed that he couldn’t read minds, but he was a vampire who could teleport himself from Florida to Minnesota, and Liam would not have been at all surprised to find that Kurt was aware of the snowstorm confronting Liam without having checked the weather.

But it was also true that Kurt was Liam’s best friend and it seemed wrong to lie to him. Except Liam couldn’t tell him the truth about this, because that wasn’t going to help anyone. It was better if Kurt didn’t know that Liam was in love with him, that for over a year now, Liam had been obsessed with the memory of Kurt kissing him, slow and sweet, and that the last thing Liam needed now was for Kurt to pull him close and show off his impressive supernatural abilities in a rescue. Kurt had made it clear that he never allowed himself to fall in love with humans that he met, and Liam had to be protective of his heart, already cracked and in danger of breaking.

“Look, if you are so dead-set on it, you can use your mind-control powers to convince me,” Liam joked, and immediately realized that was worse than lying, because Kurt flinched.

“If I do that,” Kurt said, in what sounded like a carefully controlled voice, “I will lose you anyway.”

“Wh— you’re not going to lose me. I’ll get a hotel, then. Drive home later.”

“I don’t want you driving to a hotel!” Kurt looked exasperated. “Liam, you are the most adventurous person I know. Why not this?”

“Oh, I’m hardly—”

“Yes, you are. You’re like an explorer, always hungry for something new and unusual. You’re brave, and not terribly cautious, which is bad for your driving habits, but it’s perfectly safe when it comes to me, because I am never going to let anything happen to you.”

Kurt had stepped close, and Liam could tell how upset Kurt was because Kurt was losing his grip on the human appearance and mannerisms he tried to put on. Right now he looked sleek and strong and shadowy. He didn’t reach for Liam with his hands, but Liam could feel something surrounding him, like a faint cool mist. It felt oddly familiar, and Liam got the impression that the mist might actually always be there, a piece of Kurt holding onto him, and Liam had just never been consciously aware of it before.

And then everything suddenly snapped back into place: Kurt looked ordinary again, and Liam realized with a shock that a couple of his colleagues had approached them.

“What do you think?” asked one of them. “We’re talking about getting a hotel.”

“I have a ride home,” Liam said faintly. Everyone looked at him in surprise, including Kurt. Few of Liam’s fellow faculty had met Kurt, partly by Kurt’s design, because he wasn’t terribly social, and partly by Liam’s. Liam was aware that his very close friendship with a very handsome man was likely to give him a certain other reputation, one that was quite deserved (though sadly not much practiced), but not very wise in the current political climate.

Nothing for it now. “Chris Mullens, Doris Sullivan, this is my friend Kurt, ah, Smith. He was in town for something else and is heading back to Florida today. He offered me a ride.”

“Is it safe?” Doris asked, looking concerned.

“Kurt’s a very good driver. Got a— a car like a tank.”

Doris laid a hand on Liam’s shoulder, and to Liam’s surprise, Kurt seemed to bristle at that, almost literally, and the whole room seemed to go with him, the air around them feeling oddly sharp. Liam understood that Kurt was concerned that he’d change his mind and be convinced to travel with his colleagues, but it undoubtedly looked like something else from the outside— a sort of possessiveness.

“What a nice friend,” Chris said lightly, looking at Kurt in a way that Liam did not like at all, as if Kurt was not a person but a problem, not a good-looking man but a tempting trap. Liam’s personal belief was that men who were so vehemently opposed to homosexuality were probably terrified that they themselves might be vulnerable to such a “trap,” but it was better if that went unsaid.

Kurt rescued him, of course. “Yes, Liam and I have been friends for a while. I used to date one of his students, Martina.”

Chris’s face cleared a bit, losing some of its distaste. He had apparently not heard of bisexuality, or whatever word might describe Kurt. “Oh. Sure.”

“Ready to go?” Kurt asked Liam. He barely waited for an answer before steering Liam out of the room. They walked down an empty hallway where the storm winds were pushing hard enough to make the windows shift in their frames. Kurt spoke in a gentle voice. “Give it a few years. The world is becoming more tolerant again. Humans keep discovering their natures over and over.”

“This must all be very trite to you.”

“Not in the least.” Kurt’s eyes were sharp on him. “Do you think Chris is the one sending you those threatening letters?”

Liam scoffed. “He barely knows how to tie his shoes. Worse than even the typical history professor.”

Kurt looked unconvinced. “I’ll keep an eye on him all the same.” He held out a hand to Liam. “Let’s go home.”

Liam looked down at Kurt’s hand. A pale blue vein ran delicately along his wrist, and Liam wondered what flowed there, if anything. “What about my luggage?”

“I already picked it up from Dr. Sullivan’s car. It’s at your place.”

“You’re awfully confident that I’d say yes to this.”

Kurt sighed, exasperated. “I can’t believe you haven’t asked me sooner. I thought I’d be taking you to the Louvre every weekend. Or Rome. At least Antietam.”

Liam laughed. “I should have.”

Kurt smiled, looking at ease for the first time since he’d arrived. “You should.”

“Next weekend then.” Liam finally took Kurt’s hand, and their fingers fit together easily. As always, Kurt was slightly cool to the touch.

The convention center faded away into a sort of bland white light. Liam felt like he was floating, but still with his feet planted on the ground. He looked down and found his own office floor beneath his shoes.

“Stay still a moment,” Kurt warned. “People can get dizzy when they’re not used to it.” He dropped Liam’s grasp and put a steadying hand on his arm instead. And now was the moment Liam had dreaded: Kurt was so close, so strong, and so hauntingly strange.

“We must seem so very fragile to you,” Liam said.

“You are fragile.” There was a harsh coldness in Kurt’s voice.

“So how did you learn to do that? To teleport?”

Kurt shrugged. “Just always could.”

“Always?” Liam frowned. “I thought a vampire’s abilities were based on age.”

“They are.”

“But if you’ve been doing it as long as you can remember— since at least Tollense— doesn’t it follow then that your origins would have to be a great deal older than that?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes, considering.

“Or else,” Liam said, “maybe you’re not a vampire.”

“I drink blood.”

“A lot of creatures— uh, beings— are said to drink blood. I’m sorry, it must be so frustrating not to be able to remember.”

Kurt looked at him with a sort of gratitude, but then he turned away, toward the door. A second later, there was a knock, and Kurt finally let go of Liam’s arm.

It was one of Liam’s graduate students at the door, Jonah. “Hey,” he said. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Just have a couple of questions. I thought I heard you talking. Do you have company?”

Most of the students never met Kurt either, despite the fact that he was around quite a bit. Liam had learned by now that Kurt only appeared to those students he thought he might start a relationship with. Kurt had been alone since Martina had graduated, and Liam assumed it would only be a matter of time before he picked another student, someone to provide him with blood and share his bed. In between lovers, Kurt drank blood from animals, but he had told Liam that it was much better to have a human source. Kurt chose those people whom he thought would be open to the idea of a finite relationship with a vampire, those who wouldn’t be afraid of him but also wouldn’t want to stay with him indefinitely. Because Kurt never got attached.

“Let’s find out,” Liam said, and opened the door wider. His heart sank immediately when he saw that Jonah could see Kurt standing by the desk. Liam thought back for a moment to Kurt’s reaction when Doris put her hand on Liam’s arm. But Kurt wouldn’t get jealous, of course.

Liam definitely was.

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My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt 14

hi everyone!! i hope you’re doing super well :) thank you so much for reading rotations and for sending me so many kind words!! you all mean the world to me and i rlly mean that bc i am a very emotional person hehe

pt 1

pt 13

pt 15

There were enough rooms in the house for everyone to have their own and, out of habit, (Y/N) picked the room that had once been hers whenever she stayed with the royal family. It was eerie how little it had changed. It was like it had been frozen in time since she had been eleven. Half-finished letters to her friends on the mainland remained on the desk, their scrolls crinkled at the edges with age. An old painting of her and Zuko hung at her bedside. She took it down immediately and shoved it into a desk drawer. 

“This place is amazing!” Sokka yelled as he ran up the steps of the beach house. After being attacked by Azula and being forced to flee the Western Air Temple, at Zuko’s suggestion, the group decided to fly to Ember Island to hide in plain site among the Fire Nation. On their way there, Zuko and Katara had gone on a separate mission to track down the man that killed her mother. While (Y/N) understood the necessity of Katara finding closure, she disapproved of her doing it with Zuko. She especially disapproved of how friendly the two seemed when they returned. Katara had always been her confidant in disliking Zuko and it seemed he had won her over, too. 

(Y/N) stopped at the end of the stone path, looking up at the ornate designs carved into the wood that symbolized to who this house belonged. The last time she had been here was years ago, but it felt like it was a lifetime away. So much had changed since then. 

Katara nudged her shoulder with her own. “Everything okay?” She asked, a small smile etching into her features. (Y/N) pursed her lips. Katara was the first person that she had ever told the full story of her past. She remembered choking on her words a lot because she was unable to find the happiness in her once good memories. Now that they were back on Ember Island, it was like everything was flooding back to her at once. 

“Yeah,” she said with a nod, but it was just a second too late to convince Katara that she was being honest. “Being back here just weirds me out.” 

Everyone had once again changed back into their Fire Nation clothes and while (Y/N) was comfortable, she felt completely exposed. Like anyone could recognize her at any moment. She had to keep reminding herself that it had been years since these people had seen her. 

There were enough rooms in the house for everyone to have their own and, out of habit, (Y/N) picked the room that had once been hers whenever she stayed with the royal family. It was eerie how little it had changed. It was like it had been frozen in time since she had been eleven. Half-finished letters to her friends on the mainland remained on the desk, their scrolls crinkled at the edges with age. An old painting of her and Zuko hung at her bedside. She took it down immediately and shoved it into a desk drawer. 

She dropped her bag and began taking the sheets off the bed so she could wash them. A flash outside of her door caught her eye and she leaned back to see what it was. In the room across the hall, Zuko was hanging clothes in his wardrobe. She tensed. How could she have forgotten that their rooms had been across from one another? It would be doubly difficult to avoid him now. 

She tried to talk to Zuko as little as possible if it could be avoided. It made her upset, seeing that all of her friends were gradually becoming more friendly with him. She had been happy before he had entered their group and she would be happy again once he went away. All she had to do was wait it out. 

Quickly, she gathered her bedsheets into a bundle and darted out of her door, down the hall, and down the stairs, where Katara had already set up buckets of water and soap to wash their clothes. She silently sat down beside her friend and began scrubbing. 

“You’re gonna rub a hole into those if you keep scrubbing so hard.” She looked up to see Katara raising an eyebrow at her. 

“These haven’t been used in years, I just want them to be clean.” In reality, she wanted to scrub those sheets free of the long, sleepless nights she had spent thinking about her future with Zuko. 

“I’m surprised that Zuko wanted to come back here,” Katara said in an effort to start a conversation with him. “The last time he was here, he was with Azula and those two girls.” 

“Mai and Ty Lee.” 

“You knew them?” (Y/N) nodded. 

“I went to school with them. They were all a grade below me. Ty Lee ran away and joined the circus and Mai had the biggest crush on Zuko.” She frowned and Katara must have noticed it, because her friend giggled. “What?” 

“Are you jealous?” 

“Why would I be jealous? Zuko can date anyone he wants. I don’t care.” Katara hummed knowingly and (Y/N) splashed her with soapy water. It irritated her that friends were always trying to act like they knew something she didn’t. 

After they had finished doing laundry and eating lunch, the entire group wanted to sit on the back steps of the house to enjoy the nice weather. Despite being in the Fire Nation, Ember Island was beautiful and its weather was almost always temperate. Everyone besides Aang and Zuko sat while the two boys practiced their firebending. Aang was getting better with each passing day, but (Y/N) noticed he was still holding back. With firebending, you have to give it your all, or else your flames would be weak. She told him this as he ran back to the steps for a water break. 

“I want to be able to be in control of my fire,” he said. He glanced over at Katara, who looked away. She knew he still blamed himself for accidentally burning her. 

“You can be in control and still put your whole being behind it. Firebenders attack with their whole self, because we have fire inside of us. You have it too, you just need to let it out.” 

“(Y/N) knows what she’s talking about,” Zuko said. “She was one of the best prodigies back in the Fire Nation.” 

“Don’t do that,” she snapped at him. Zuko looked at her, surprised. “Don’t just bring up the past like we’re reminiscing on good times.” She stood so she was eye level with the former prince. “And you’re crazy if you think you can get back on my good side just by complimenting me.” 

“(Y/N)-”

“No! You’ll let me speak. For years I tried to reason why you would just drop me like I was nothing to you. Like we didn’t spend ever summer for years on this island, together, and that I didn’t spend almost every waking moment of every day at your side. You left me in the Fire Nation and even after our fights, even after you captured me to take me back to the Fire Nation as a war criminal, I still believed that there was some good in you. You sure fooled me! You had been fooling me for years and I just never realized it. And then, after everything I said to you in your uncle’s tea shop, you betrayed me. You ran home to the people who had been nothing but evil to you from the moment we met and left me in a prison to rot!” 

This was the most she had spoken to Zuko since he had joined their group. The fire that raged in her eyes was apparent, and Katara was close enough to see the flames dancing on her fingertips. 

“And then you want to come here and act like everything is fine? You want to befriend my friends, the people that cared for me when you didn’t, and bring up the good times we had and just completely forget that for the past three years you treated me like I was nothing! Every fight we had, I held myself back because no matter how hard I tried to, I couldn’t hurt you!” 

She shot a fire ball at him that missed by a few inches. Zuko stepped back as (Y/N) walked down to the beach. “You want to be here so badly? Prove it! Fight me!” 

“(Y/N),” Zuko began. 

“I challenge you to an Agni Kai!” The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. She and her friends realized the weight of what she had said quickly. Zuko set his jaw, his fists balled at his sides. 

She regretted what she had said as soon as it came out of her mouth. She was just so angry and as she looked at Zuko, it was hard to not get angrier. Angry for leaving her behind in the Fire Nation, angry for betraying her in Ba Sing Se, and angry for being able to fit himself back into her life so easily. 

(Y/N) made the first attack, which Zuko dodged. She shot flames at his head, body, and feet and their friends watched in astonishment as they jumped, flipped, and kicked their way around each other. 

“It’s like they’re dancing,” Suki said. Aang narrowed his eyes. 

“He’s on the defense,” he said. 

“What?” Toph asked. 

“Zuko isn’t fighting her back.” 

Their friends could feel the flames get hotter as her anger toward Zuko eventually took control. She was getting sloppy with her movements and instead chose to shoot fire at Zuko every chance she got. Katara stood to diffuse the situation, but Sokka grabbed her arm. 

“They have to do this,” he said. 

(Y/N) was ruthless. She knew she didn’t want to hurt Zuko, but she couldn’t stop herself. Years of anger were reaching their boiling point in this battle. 

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Zuko shouted at her. 

“You already did!” She shouted back, jumping into the air and smacking her fists to the sand, sending a wave of fire at him. The flames had spread around them, encircling them in a ring of fire. Her fists were lit with fire blasts. “Fight me back!” She screamed, shooting balls of fire at him. He had been dodging her attacks and slashing through her flames. Not once had he shot fire at her. “Do something!” 

“I won’t!” Zuko shouted over the roar of the flames. “I don’t want this!” 

(Y/N) could feel the tears streaming down her face. If he fought her, she would have a reason to retaliate. She would have an answer for hurting him, just like he hurt her. Zuko’s amber eyes stared in to her own.

“I won’t fight you.” 

She was twelve again, watching with tear-filled eyes as Zuko knelt to the ground in front of his father, begging him for mercy. She remembered the fear in his voice and the way he screamed when his father burned him right after he had said the very same words he was saying to her. “I won’t fight you!” 

The flames died down instantly. (Y/N) brought her hands to her mouth and slowly fell to her knees, her body shaking with sobs. Her tears hit the hot sand around her. 

She felt strong arms wrap around her and pull her body close to theirs. Zuko rested his chin atop of her head and rubbed her back, his own tears sliding down his cheeks. She pulled away to look up at him. Her eyes were red, her cheeks puffy from her tears, and her bottom lip quivered as she held in a sob, but Zuko still felt his heart skip a beat. 

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I didn’t mean--I didn’t want--” 

“I know,” was all Zuko said. She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly, tucking her face into his neck like she had when they were kids. They sat like that for what felt like hours, until one by one, they felt their friends wrap their arms around them. 

---

Tag List! 

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[the-blind-assassin-12]

The Next One Is Free

A PASSING THROUGH ONE SHOT POV REMIX

A/N: A long long time ago I posted an ask where for people to request befores, afters, or POV changes for any scene/ chapter of any of my stories, and @suchatinyinfinity​ (thanks Dani!) asked for the scene from Passing Through when Ryan and Reader meet from a different POV (which we get from Reader in the main story) and I am sorry it took me so long to get to because I had a blast writing it. It also goes along with the first prompt from this September prompt list- which I am going to try to utilize in some way shape or form through this month in an attempt to write daily. The goal for September is to empty my inbox and catch up on things I have been meaning to write so without further ado... 

Request/ Prompt: Ryan & Reader’s first meeting- POV Remix // September Prompt Day 1- the smell of coffee  

Word Count: 1k

It was a typical Tuesday morning shift at Caribou. 

The bell above the door hadn’t stopped jingling for more than a few seconds at a time as customers came and went. The chiming sound was accompanied by the near constant clanking of ceramic mugs jumbling together in the dishwasher and the drip, drip, hiss of the coffee pots to create a sort of soundtrack for her to work to. With only one song. One long song on an endless loop. 

Maggie stared through the steam of the espresso machine at the line of customers stretching out from the counter. Their number never dwindled to less than four no matter how quickly she filled cups or frothed foam. The fast pace could sometimes be exhausting, but it did help to make the time fly when she was consistently busy. Her eyes darted up to the clock mounted to the wall on the far side of the room, squinting to read the time as a man with broad shoulders stepped into the line. Ten thirty. One more hour to go. You can do this, Mags. 

By then she had already had her slew of early regulars with their routine orders and friendly smiles, their “have a great day hun”s and their “see you tomorrow”s genuine even if they were also routine. The daily stream of half sleeping students stopping in for a pick me up en route to their 9 am class a few blocks over at the UC Denver campus had already come through too, Maggie recognizing a few of them as classmates from her night classes and making small talk about assignments or upcoming exams as she made their drinks. There was also a group of middle aged women who she could count on every other week to take up two tables in the corner while they discussed whatever it was their book club had read recently. Though it seemed like it would do the opposite, seeing certain faces, chatting with the same people, even if it was about the same thing every time, helped make a monotonous job less so. 

Not all regulars were a welcome sight though, and she groaned as she recognized the broad shouldered man in the gray suit as the jerk who had made her new co-worker cry the previous week with his rude demeanor. Ugh. Not this guy again. It was undoubtedly him though, his voice cutting through the busy space as he spoke into the phone pressed to his ear with the same condescending tone he used to order his coffee. Letting out a sigh, Maggie capped the tiny cups she held and cashed out her current customer, mentally crossing her fingers in hopes that the jerk in the suit wouldn’t cause any problems. Please I just want my shift to end in peace. I have one more hour and then I’m free. I really just want it to go smoothly. 

The next customer, it seemed, had heard that silent plea, the man ordering a small coffee with a kind smile. He dropped his change directly into the tip jar, thanking her in a slow southern drawl with a tip of his head. He wrapped his long, tattooed fingers around the cardboard cup she passed him and stepped aside, heading for the table where creamers and sweeteners were stocked. 

Before she could even process the pleasant interaction though, the jerk was barking his order at her and she felt herself struggling to keep a customer service approved smile on her face. The effort wasn’t lost on the woman in line behind him, and she gave Maggie a sympathetic look. Luckily, the well dressed asshole didn’t have any complaints about his coffee this time, and since his order was simple he was out of her hair relatively quickly. Good. Now get out of here before-

But it was too late for him to leave without incident as dark brown liquid splashed onto his coat. Maggie saw it happening in slow motion, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was already helping a different set of customers when the nice but apparently clumsy woman who had just shot her a look of solidarity had spilled her beverage. And of course it had to be on him. Maggie watched helplessly as the woman tried to diffuse the situation before it became a shouting match, apologizing for the stain and offering to take care of his drycleaning. More than he deserves, but she’s trying. 

He wasn’t having it though, and just when Maggie wondered if she needed to call for her manager, the kind man with warm eyes was back to intervene. Though he didn’t appear to know the woman, he stepped between her and the jerk and addressed the other man directly. He calmly but sternly repeated what the woman had offered, telling the man to either accept her apology and courtesy or move along. For half a second, Maggie wondered if the well-intentioned canvas and denim clad young man hadn’t made things worse by stepping in, but something in the combination of his tone and the way his calm eyes flashed dark and serious must have made the jerk think twice because he left, grumbling about taking his business to the coffeehouse over on Larimer. Oh. Please do. 

Pressing a fully punched card with a hand-written “next one is free!” on the back into the hero of the morning’s callused palm, Maggie thanked him for ridding the shop of the undesirable customer and poured a fresh cup of coffee for the woman whose beverage the jerk had left wearing. Continuing to help the customers in line, Maggie kept one eye on the pair as they introduced themselves to one another, the woman thanking him again and both of them grinning over their steaming cups. Did I just witness one of those coffee shop meet cutes? Like in hallmark movies and fanfiction? 

Laughing to herself, she watched the two of them leave the shop, the bell announcing their departure, and hoped for one more thing- I hope when he comes in for his free one… they come back together. 

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